Two Parallel Lines

by TakingAlltheStupidwithYou

Summary:

“That was the night I knew,” he said, just a little above a whisper. He moved his right hand from the countertop to rest on your cheek, compelling you to meet his eyes again. You furrowed your brow and cocked your head in question.

“Knew what?” You asked.

“That I was a goner; that I was completely crazy about you,” he replied, running his thumb over your cheekbone.

You swallowed hard and were vaguely aware that your heartbeat picked up and you had to remind yourself to breathe… was he saying what you thought he was saying?

***

You and Bucky finally find your way to each other. But nothing is ever so simple for heroes like the Avengers.

This is an alternate universe story where the events of Civil War didn't end in splitting the Avengers but brought everyone together. It takes place before, during, and after Infinity War and Endgame, with those events being slightly altered as well, in keeping the alternate universe, branched timeline, alternate reality, or whatever you choose to call it, concept.

Notes:

Comments and kudos are so appreciated! There's plenty of smut right out of the gate, but eventually the story will get heavier, so fair warning. Why is tagging and writing summaries so hard???

Chapter 1: The Church

“They entered a church on 51st and 10th,” you heard through your earpiece. Barnes, it sounded like. “In pursuit. Going to observe and not engage unless necessary,” he added.

 

You put your hand to your ear, listening to Steve copy Bucky, and decided to offer backup 

 

“I'm a block away. I can meet Barnes as backup. You copy, Cap?” You were already moving silently up the street, as you slung your bow across you.

 

“Copy,” Steve replied. “Buck, you copy?”

 

There was a beat of silence. You waited to hear Bucky confirm Steve, but no response. You could feel a small spike of anxiety in your gut, but you also knew it wasn't completely unlike him to forget to communicate with the team. A side effect of being a silent assassin for decades, you suspected, but nonetheless picked up your pace a bit as you saw the building coming into view. 

 

You approached the door with caution, staying silent and keeping low, assessing your surroundings for threats. The church was empty, dark, and silent, as far as you could tell. If the two masked men you had been tracking entered here, they had probably moved on. Taking a few more steps in the door, you heard some muffled voices and scuffing feet from above you. You turned toward the sound but quickly felt something whiz passed your ear and shatter on the wall behind you.

 

Instinct dropped you to the ground, ducking into one of the rows of benches and your eyes immediately searched the balcony for your attacker. You saw flashes of movement and then heard, rather than saw, doors being kicked open and then all the noise was gone. 

 

You shifted, intending to stand again, but an arm shot out from under the bench at your back, grabbing your wrist and tugging you under the bench as well. Your hand shot to your nearest weapon and had a knife aimed at your unknown assailant in an instant, but a second hand was around that wrist just as fast. In a blur of tangled movements, you were on your back underneath the bench, one hand being pinned beneath you, and the other, the one holding your knife, pinned against the concrete beside your head. Your assailant’s body pressed yours against the floor, propped up on his forearms, his knees between your legs.

 

Recognition fought through the survival instinct flooding your senses, and you relaxed. But the man above you stayed firmly planted, brows furrowed in deadly concentration.

 

“Easy, Soldier,” you soothed, and you could see his expression ease as it hit him that you were not a threat.

 

Bucky's grip on you loosened and he pulled your arm out from behind your back. But he didn't make a move to let you leave and you realized he was concentrating on something.

 

“They're on the roof,” he said after a moment of silence. “I can hear them. They're moving to the next building.”

 

You felt him further relax his body above you as soon as he determined there was no longer an immediate threat. Still, he didn't make any move to let you up.

 

You stared up at his face, inches from yours, and you had a wicked thought. Before you could stop it, it was spilling over your lips 

 

“You know, if you wanted to get me on my back, all you had to do was ask,” you remarked, a suggestive smirk tugging at the corners of your lips.

 

You had expected a laugh and a retort equal to your comment. But what you got instead, had your jaw falling open in surprise.

 

You saw his eyes immediately go a shade darker and he went rigid above you. You heard his breath catch, ever so slightly. The look you saw on his face sent a shiver up your spine and something that felt an awful lot like panic shot through your body.

 

The man pressing you into the floor was your closest friend. You were basically inseparable. But friends was where it ended. Neither of you had ever broached the subject of anything more. You were decidedly afraid to ruin what you had and both made an unspoken decision to keep whatever either of you felt to your respective selves.

 

Of course, you were entirely smitten with him and you knew it. But for fear that he would never feel the same, you continually shoved that feeling down and tried to pretend you could get over it. You knew without a doubt you would rather have him in your life as a friend than not have him at all.

 

But the man you saw above you now, the one burning his eyes into your soul, this was not the same one you watched sitcoms with on Sundays. This was not the same man who stole your ice cream when his bowl was empty and tossed you on to the couch to sleep it off when you drank too much. This was a side of him he kept carefully hidden from your view.

 

“Don't say things you don't mean, doll,” he warned in a deep, almost hoarse, tone.

 

You were suddenly very aware that he looked like he was trying to restrain himself and you couldn't even wrap your mind around the thought before your heart betrayed you.

 

“Bucky…” you said in a soft, breathy whisper.

 

An actual growl vibrated from his chest. You watched as he squeezed his eyes shut and leaned his face in so close to yours that you could taste his breath on your tongue.

 

“Say it again,” he all but commanded, midnight-blue eyes locked onto your own.

 

You felt your heart trying to straight up escape from your chest. Your breath caught in your throat and for a split second you thought you might pass out, but then your brain short-circuited, your heart now completely in the driver's seat, and you leaned forward as close to his ear as you could get and drawled, “... Bucky…”

 

Whatever invisible tether was holding him back snapped, and his mouth crashed into yours, so hard you thought you might bruise. You didn't think you'd ever been kissed that hard in your life and probably never would again. You felt months of pent up feelings pouring out of you and right into his mouth as he dove his tongue into yours. You felt everything, everywhere, all at once. You felt him.

 

Bucky pulled back just enough to disconnect from your lips and let you both gulp air back into your lungs. Then he was shifting to kiss along your jaw, down your neck, along the limited bit of your chest available to him, given the plunge of your tacsuit. His lips kept moving, back to the other side of your neck. He paused to suck on your pulse point and before you could hold it back, a moan escaped your lips. 

 

You heard a groan and his hips bucked against yours, completely off their own accord. His hands grabbed onto your shoulders as he tried to keep himself grounded. 

 

“Jeez, that sound,” he whined, bringing his forehead to rest against yours. “You have no idea what it does to me, how long I've wanted to be the reason you're making it.”

 

You quirked your lips up into a wry smile. “I mean, I have some idea. At least, I do now.”

 

He gave a quiet, dark chuckle, which you reciprocated and you felt it vibrate through both your bodies, making you very aware of his length pressing hard between your legs. You rocked your hips against him, slowly, dragging out the motion. 

 

“Ahhh,” he hissed. You could see the struggle on his face as he tried to keep himself from grinding against you in return. “Baby, if you keep that up, I swear, you're gonna make me come.”

 

The thought that you could possibly have that kind of effect on him made you burn. Your hands twined around his neck pulling his lips back to yours. You managed to hook your left leg over his hip just enough to pull him flush to your body and began rocking your hips into his again.

 

Bucky all but yelled, grinding down hard against you. You felt your lips turn up in a real come-and-get-me grin, and he was only too happy to oblige. He dropped his forehead to yours once more and began rutting against you with abandon. He managed to move his arm down to hook under your thigh, squeezing hard and slowly sliding it up to brush against the curve of your ass.

 

Several low, strangled moans spilled out of you and he smiled.

 

“You’re close, aren't you, baby,” his low, gravelly voice drawled. 

 

You let out a whimper as he continued his efforts to make you come. 

 

“Yes, Buck, I'm close. God, I'm so close,” you whined in reply.

 

He lifted his head to watch you as you got closer and closer to coming undone. You swore he looked like he was in awe of what he was seeing, but you didn't have the ability to analyze that while he was fucking you senseless over your clothes.

 

You let out a decidedly loud moan followed by his name as a particularly hard, well angled thrust of his hips had you soaring off a cliff and your vision went blurry.

 

“Ah, damnit, baby, that sound, AH!” You heard him grunt and his hips got sloppy for a few moments before they stilled.

 

You both laid there, gasping for air. Foreheads resting together, letting the silence seep in.

 

In the back of your mind, a thoroughly terrified little voice was screaming that you had just crossed a line you couldn't go back over and you lost your best friend. But it wasn't loud enough just yet to cut through the afterglow. You managed to open your eyes again when he raised his head away from yours and you saw him staring at you. The look on his face stilled your heart, it was so full of affection… maybe even adoration, which you found confusing and possibly also exciting. 

 

You moved a hand from the back of his neck and carded it through his hair. You watched as he leaned into your touch, closing his eyes, a quiet sigh leaving his lips. God, you liked the look on his face, liked getting this reaction from him. It felt so damn good.

 

“You came too, didn't you,” you said matter-of-fact-ly, running your other hand down to rest against his jaw. 

 

“I warned you what would happen if you kept doing that, sweetheart,” he said, pulling a lopsided grin.

 

That grin made your heart stop and your hands in his hair stilled. He grinned wider, clearly pleased with the effect it was having, and turned his head just a little to place a slow, dragging kiss against your palm.

 

“Bucky,” you sighed, a shudder running through your body at the feel of his lips against your skin.

 

“Damn, baby, don't start that again, or I'm gonna lose it and rip your clothes off right here,” he said through gritted teeth.

 

You smiled up at him, about to reply, before a sickening thought hit you and you froze. He mirrored your reaction, his brow knitting in concern. He was suddenly very aware of what just happened and he was scared to death of what you might say next.

 

“What's wrong, sweetheart?” He asked quietly, his breath clearly catching, waiting for you to push him off and run. 

 

You reached up and tapped right next to his ear, sheer panic on your face. He instantly understood. He cleared his throat and lifted a finger to his mouth, indicating you should stay silent. You nodded 

 

“Uh… Steve? Do you copy?” He asked, trying to keep his voice even and controlled. He winced as a reply came back.

 

“Yeah… We copy, Buck…,” Steve replied, clearly hesitant. His voice held more than a little discomfort. 

 

You screwed your eyes shut, wishing you could be swallowed by the floor beneath you. Poor, Steve. Poor everyone on the team who had a comm. You could feel every inch of you heating with embarrassment.

 

Bucky dropped his head a bit, his face twisting into a grimace. “Did you guys… were you all lis-”

 

“Don't panic, Barnes, I had Friday mute both of you,” a voice, Romanoff, cut him off before he had to finish that cringe-laden sentence.

 

You found yourself never having been more grateful for Natasha's intuition as you were at this moment.

 

“Yeah, not quick enough, though,” you heard Barton complain with a groan, but there was no real annoyance in his tone.

 

“Nat, when did you cut our comms?” You finally spoke up.

 

“Oh, she's alive. Good,” you heard Tony interject. 

 

“Yeah, we were starting to wonder if he fucked you so hard, you passed out,” Sam chimed in with a cackle.

 

“Oh my God, Sam!” You cried.

 

“Hey, don't go blaming me! I wasn't the one who decided to get frisky-”

 

“Alright, I think that's enough,” Steve stepped in before things got any worse, and you were suddenly thankful his Captain American ass was still so old-fashioned.

 

“Let's all meet back for a debrief in two hours. Barnes, there's extraction for you both two blocks East. See everybody back at base,” Steve instructed before you heard comms click off.

 

“Well, better get back before Captain Rogers has our heads,” you said with a quiet laugh.

 

Bucky smiled and nodded in agreement, but didn't move. He was staring down at you, a look on his face you didn't quite recognize, but it made you feel warm inside. You smiled back at him. 

 

“Buck.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“You gonna, ya know, let me out?” You gave a little shrug of your shoulders to emphasize the point that he was still pinning you down.

 

He laughed and shook his head. “If it was up to me, then no, I wouldn't, but Steve's in charge.” Then he was planking above you to give you room to scoot out from under the bench. A moment later he scooted out as well and stood up in one fluid motion. He reached down and grabbed your arms pulling you to your feet, holding you in front of him for a moment, before he turned to start toward the door.

 

You felt a stab in your chest and reached out to grab his arm, making him pause. He turned back to you, his look questioning. 

 

“I just gotta know what's going to happen from here,” you said in a quick jittery tone, feeling like you better get the words out before you lost all the nerve. “Because if you need me to forget that we just-”

 

“Dry humped under a bench in a church?” He offered with a wicked smile.

 

“Yes, jackass, that.” You rolled your eyes, but smiled. “If you need me to forget about it and just go back to the way things were, then I will. But I have to know if that's what you want.”

 

Bucky cocked his head, looking back at you. You could tell he was thinking and for a moment your heart sank into the subway tunnels below your feet. But he quickly straightened and leveled you with a serious look. 

 

“Is that what you want?” He asked, his voice full of uncertainty and an unmistakable twinge of pain. His eyes looked just a little bit pleading. 

 

“No,” you breathed, and for a moment you felt sick while you waited for him to respond. 

 

“Good”, he replied before crashing his lips down on yours again, just like he had earlier, pouring all kinds of unfamiliar emotions into the kiss. When you broke apart, he brought his hand to your face and ran his thumb along your cheekbone. “Because I don't want that either.”

 

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and felt your whole body relax. You were still shocked, but you felt like someone had taken a boulder off your chest.

 

“Come on. Let's not piss off Steve anymore than we already have.”

 

You gave a small laugh and nodded against his touch. He dropped his arm down and took your hand in his before turning again and leading you both out of the church. You walked the street in companionable silence for a bit, both of you knowing you were glad this had happened, but also nervous about where to go from here. 

 

“I've wanted to do that for a really long time, you know,” Bucky spoke up, breaking the silence. 

 

You turned your head to look at him as you walked. He looked completely calm, but you knew him better than that and you could read the small signs of anxiety that showed themselves, like the slight tick in his jaw or the way he swallowed and his Adam's apple bobbed a bit too much. You squeezed his hand in reassurance. 

 

“So have I,” you echoed, giving him a warm smile.

 

“Then what took us so long?” He wondered aloud. 

 

You shrugged. “Probably fear of rejection and losing what we had already found,” you offered in reply.

 

Bucky came to a stop and you did the same. He turned to face you, closing his eyes for a moment to gather himself.

 

“I'm sorry, sweetheart. I should've said something a long time ago instead of constantly biting my tongue, like a coward. I should have asked you on a proper date, shown you how much you mean to me instead of-”

 

“Dry humping me under a bench in a church?” You supplied, with a smirk.

 

Bucky laughed, a bright smile spreading on his face. He nodded. 

 

“Yeah, doll, that,” he agreed, and before you knew what was happening, he hooked his arm around your waist and pulled you against him, placing a sweet kiss to your temple.

 

“You deserve better than that,” he whispered against your hair. He started walking you both forward again, but you turned to look up at him and you could see the pain in his face. You knew that look. He was disappointed in himself. That could lead to only one thing; a misguided belief that he was unworthy of you. If you didn't put a stop to it now, he would spiral and you could lose him before you even knew what you had.

 

“James Buchanan Barnes, stop that immediately,” you said in the calmest, firmest, most caring tone you could summon.

 

He turned to you, puzzled.

 

“I see the wheels turning. I know what you're thinking. I'm not going to let you sabotage this before we even know what it could be. You are not unworthy. I don't deserve better, or whatever other nonsense is running through your head, so just cut that shit out right now.”

 

You watched his expression go from confused, to a split second of indignant, to resigned, then finally landing on what you could only assume was amazed. 

 

“Well, damn, baby,” he said, letting a cocky grin play across his face. It was obvious he knew you were right, but he also knew you just as well as you knew him.

 

“But I know you, doll, and I could tell you the same thing.” He squeezed you against his side. “How about we just let each other decide what we're worthy of and try not let our fears get in the way. Deal?” He asked.

 

“Deal,” you replied.

 

Bucky pulled you forward and you continued down the street in silence once more. You could see the black SUV at the end of the block.

 

You were abruptly halted by an object slamming into the brick just passed your heads and bouncing back the direction it came. Before you had a chance to react, Bucky yanked you into the adjacent alley, pushed you into the brick wall, and positioned himself in front of you protectively. He was too close for you to free your bow, so you grabbed the knife at your thigh and prepared for whatever was coming. 

 

Seconds later, seemingly out of nowhere, a figure dropped to the ground in the alleyway, standing across from you. It was one of the masked figures that you and Bucky had followed into the church. He was in some kind of custom armor, red, a little bulky. He had some kind of holster at this thigh, likely for the sticks he was holding. His stance was defensive but not aggressive, ready for a flight but not looking to start one. 

 

“I know you were following me earlier.” He stated.

 

“We got a tip about a disturbance with two masked fighters. We were investigating.” Bucky replied

 

“The man I was fighting- what does he want with you?” The red man asked. 

 

You and Bucky exchanged a confused look. You were in your gear, his metal arm on full display, and your “A” symbol sat proudly on your pauldron… and he wondered why an armed man would attack you? 

 

“Uh, cause he seems like a bad guy and he probably saw an opportunity to take a couple of Avengers off the board?” You answered, still a little puzzled. 

 

You watched him closely as he seemed to process what you said. His head tilted, angling toward you, like he was listening. You watched him lift his head up a bit and… was he sniffing? Before you could think about just how odd it was, you heard him mumble something to himself, and then his stance relaxed. He holstered the sticks he was holding. 

 

“That's a fair assessment,” the mystery man concurred. “But, if you want my advice, this guy is well below your pay grade. I can handle him. Your efforts are better spent on bigger issues.”

 

Bucky relaxed a bit as well, holstering his own weapon and stepping a bit forward to give you more space. But he kept you behind him, you noted, and kept his metal arm in front of you. You feel something bubbling up inside, an unpleasant emotion, but you set it aside. This was not the time. 

 

“We appreciate that, but we'll leave that up to the Captain,” Bucky replied. 

 

The man in red gave you a curt nod, and turned to leave. 

 

“How can we reach you if we need to follow-up?” You asked. 

 

He kept his back to you but turned his head over his shoulder in your direction.

 

“If you need me, I'll find you.” Then he was gone, scaling the alley wall like a lizard, and vanishing to the roof tops.

 

“Well that was interesting,” Bucky remarked as he stared up at where the man disappeared. 

 

“This town has so many suits now. Can't even keep track of them all, I guess,” you concurred. “Hey, what did he say when he was mumbling to himself? Could you hear?”

 

“Vibranium,” Bucky replied. You looked at each other for a moment and shrugged, deciding to decipher it later.

 

The two of you headed back to the street and you didn't miss how Bucky wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you close. He kept his eyes scanning your surroundings, more closely than before. You walked on for a moment before the nagging feeling in your stomach grew too strong and you stopped, forcing him to also come to a halt.

 

He turned to you, his brow furrowed.

 

“What is it, doll?”

 

You sighed and turned toward him, causing his arm to fall away, and he frowned, confused and maybe a little worried. You took a deep breath and leveled your gaze with his. 

 

“You can't do that.” You stated firmly. 

 

Bucky's furrowed brow deepened. He clearly didn't understand what you were talking about. 

 

“What?... Put my arm around you?” He guessed, and you could see he was crestfallen at the idea that you didn't want that. 

 

You threw your head back and laughed. He looked even more confused. You stepped forward and put a hand on each side of his face, looking him in the eye so he could see you were sincere. 

 

“No, stupid boy!” You couldn't help but giggle. “You can put your arm around me as much as you want.” You saw him visibly relax and lean into your touch. You moved your hands from his face to rest on his upper arms and leveled with his gaze once more. 

 

“But what you can't do is shove me behind you every time you see a threat and hover over me like a sheep dog.” You stated firmly.

 

You saw his jaw set and his eyes narrow a little. You could tell he wanted to respond and refute what you said, but he quickly thought better of it. Instead he lowered his head, looking a little defeated.

 

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I don't know what even happened. It was just instinct. I saw a threat and the next thing I know, I'm pushing you behind me.”

 

“Buck, we've been in situations with threats hundreds of times and you've never done that before. You know I can protect myself.”

 

“I know. It doesn't make sense.”

 

You sighed once more and placed a hand back to his face. You knew why he did it. You fought the urge to do the same thing every time you were in the field together. And there was a part of you that was just tickled over the idea that he felt this way about you.

 

“It does, Buck, I get it. I have to remind myself to let you do your job and trust you to take care of yourself every time we suit up. I get the instinct. But if you try to shield me from harm, then I can't do my job and one or both of us is going to end up hurt. Like just now, back in the alley. You pinned me between you and the wall. I couldn't even reach my bow. If there was a real threat, my reaction time would have been terrible.”

 

“You're right and I'm sorry,” he said again. 

 

You watched him for a moment and then a knowing smile spread across your face.

 

“You said I was right and apologized all at the same time. I don't think that's happened before in known history,” you smirked up at him.

 

He laughed and kissed your forehead, turning to angle you back toward the SUV.

 

“Yeah, well, I don't know what came over me, but I wouldn't get used to it,” he teased.

 

A few moments later, you were at the vehicle. Agents got out of the front and met you.

 

“Sergeant Barnes, Agent YLN,” one of them greeted you and took your weapons and Bucky's tacvest, depositing them into the trunk. 

 

The other agent opened the door and nodded at you both as you climbed into the back. He closed the door once Bucky was inside. Another moment and the car was moving.

 

Bucky leaned back against the seat. He reached across the bench to wrap his arm around you and pulled you back to him, slotting you against his side. You nestled into him, breathing in his scent which always reminded you of pine and sage and just him.

 

“We should still have about an hour before debrief, once we get back,” he said, absently running his hand up and down your side.

 

You smiled against his chest where your head was resting. 

 

“And do you have a suggestion for what to do with our time?”

 

You tilted your head up to see that he was looking down at you with a mischievous grin. You smiled back, waiting patiently for whatever likely suggestive things he proposed. 

 

“I was thinking we should probably shower, ya know, before we have to sit through a debrief. Don't know about you, but I could definitely use one,” he chuckled and gave you a pointed look. 

 

You laughed a little, then gave him a look through your lashes that you assumed would raise his pulse a bit.

 

“That sounds like a plan, Soldier,” you replied. You slid yourself down and adjusted your legs across the bench. You settled your head on his lap, draping your arm over the edge of the bench and running it up and down his leg.

 

“For now,” you said through a muffled yawn, “I'm going to take a nap until we get home.”

 

Bucky brushed the hair out of your face and smiled when you hummed at his touch. “Alright, baby, you sleep,” he bent over and kissed your head and you were out. 

 

 

Chapter 2: The Confession

You woke slowly to a hand rubbing your shoulder and lips brushing against your ear. For a moment, you couldn't remember what was going on or who was touching you and you stiffened, but then you heard a voice and relaxed. 

 

“Come on, doll, we're home,” Bucky quietly informed, pressing a feather light kiss to the shell of your ear. 

 

You turned and smiled up at him and stretched. Slowly you sat up as Bucky opened the door and stepped out. You felt sleep clinging to your limbs and momentarily contemplated whether you should just spend the night in the back of the SUV. Bucky was watching you with a small grin as you slid out of the vehicle and hit the concrete with a groan.

 

“A gentleman might have volunteered to carry me, instead of waking me up,” you snarked.

 

Bucky quietly chuckled, tilting his head to give you another one of his lopsided grins, the kind that made you feel like your knees would give out. You wondered for a moment if that feeling would ever wear off, and you kind of hoped the answer was no. He stepped closer, crowding you in just a little. 

 

“I don't remember ever claiming to be a gentleman, sweetheart,” he said, and gave you an honest to goodness wink, before turning to head for the elevator. He turned back around to give you a smoldering look when he was a few steps away.

 

You stood there, trying to shake the distinct feeling of shell-shock. When had this man, who was your best friend, become capable of reducing you to liquid?

 

“You comin’, doll?” He called back to you from the elevator. 

 

That woke you up a bit and you jogged to meet him just as the doors were opening. You stepped on together and the doors whooshed closed behind you. You reached over the buttons and paused. You turned to Bucky and quirked your eyebrow in a question. 

 

“Where’re we headed?” You asked.

 

Bucky gave a small shrug. “Up to you, doll,” he replied. 

 

You chewed your lip in thought for a moment, then pressed the button for his floor. You stood back and gave him a grin. He leaned back against the glass wall and you tucked yourself back into his side. You felt his head drop to rest on yours.

 

“My place, it is,” he said, his breath ruffling your hair.

 

You turned your head up and he lifted his to look down at you. You rested your chin against his chest and reached up to run a finger along the underside of his jaw. You couldn't help but smile as he tilted into your touch, moving his head to follow the stroke of your finger.

 

“I just figured it would be easier for me to find something of yours to wear than the other way around,” you chuckled. 

 

You felt a laugh vibrate through his chest. You set a couple more fingers against his jaw and stroked them through his thick stubble and you felt a shudder go through his whole body. You grinned at the effect you had and pushed up on the balls of your feet, aiming to kiss his cheek.

 

As soon as your lips brushed his skin, he twisted, wrapping an arm around your middle and using the other to support your head as he lightly dipped you to the side, supporting your weight. He hovered his face just above yours with a wicked grin. This time you felt a shudder go through your own body.

 

“Two can play at that game,” he teased. He ghosted his lips across yours making you involuntarily sigh.

 

There was a soft ding and the elevator doors opened. You attempted to right yourself with the intent of walking out, but Bucky scooped you up and over his shoulder before you even knew what was happening. You yelped in surprise as he walked you out of the elevator and down the hall.

 

“Buck, this isn't very romantic,” you complained as you dangled over his shoulder. 

 

“You're the one who said you wanted to be carried. You should have been more specific,” he replied and accentuated it with a small slap to your ass. 

 

That made you groan a bit too loudly and he gave a knowing chuckle. 

 

“Ooh, sounds like you like it a little rough, huh, doll?” He laughed again as he opened the door to his apartment and walked in, turning to close the door and lock in one motion. He finally set you back down with your back to the door and set his palms against it on either side of your head, caging you in. You looked up at him with hooded eyes and gave a sultry smile.

 

“Hey, Soldier,” you whispered, biting your lower lip. 

 

He let out a groan and closed the distance between you, pressing himself flush to your body. He slotted a leg between yours, pressing a thigh up against your core. Your eyes fluttered closed and you let out a whine. He dipped his head to your ear, lips grazing the shell and nipping at the lobe. You felt him smile against your ear when it made you whimper. 

 

“We should probably get that shower, baby,” he purred. He pushed off the door and took a step back, keeping eye contact with you as he shook off his boots, and peeled away his socks, standing up again to tug his shirt over his head. You watched, feeling your face flush and you involuntarily licked your lips as you took in his bare torso. It's not as though you had never seen him shirtless before. You saw it all the time, in fact, between missions, training, just generally hanging out, whatever, but this felt different. The look on his face was different. His posture was different. He looked at you like you were his reason for existing. It made you feel like you were on fire.

 

You gave him a wicked grin, turning so your back was to him and pulled your braid to one side. You looked back over your shoulder, staring through your lashes. 

 

“Can you help me out?” You asked, trying to sound innocent. 

 

He gave a dark chuckle and took a step toward you, ghosting his hands up your arms. He brought his face down to nuzzle at the back of your neck and his right hand found the zipper to your tacsuit. He placed soft kisses to your neck at your hairline and began pulling the zipper down, his lips trailing along your skin as it was exposed inch by inch. Your back arched into his touch and you let out a soft moan. You felt his smile against your shoulder blade and his metal hand was snaking into your suit to pull the fabric back and over your shoulder. Once the zipper was undone, his right hand also began to peel back the fabric and within a moment the top of your suit rested low on your hips. Bucky paused. 

 

“What is it?” You asked, chewing your lip, a little anxious.

 

“No bra?” He questioned, though he could see the answer. “... Were you planning on something like this happening?...” You could hear that he was trying to be teasing, but you could also hear a slight edge to his voice, like he might be worried the answer was yes and he was not the intended recipient.

 

Before you could stop yourself, you were laughing. His hands left you and you knew he stood back for a moment. You spun back around to face him again and grinned at the look on his face when he saw your bare chest. For a moment it looked like all cohesive thought had fled his brain and his jaw was slack as he openingly ogled you. You laughed a bit more and that seemed to cut through his haze.

 

“What's so funny?” He asked and you could see he was fighting the urge to cross his arms over his chest.

 

“Oh, silly boy,” you replied through a giggle. You stepped forward and snaked your arms up around his neck and played with his hair. He leaned into you a bit, though you could tell he was trying not to, and his arms remained at his sides, clearly fighting the urge to reach up and grab fistfuls of your breasts. “The suit doesn't require a bra. I never wear one. No, I didn't do this hoping you- or anyone- would get to see it later.”

 

He listened as you spoke and a grin spread on his face again. You felt his hands slide up your sides, running his fingers over the exposed skin and he sighed at the contact. 

 

“That's too bad. I like the idea that you've been thinking of me seeing you naked,” he remarked as his hands came up to caress the underside of your breasts. His right thumb ran over a nipple and you shivered.

 

You used your grip on his neck to encourage his mouth down to meeting yours, giving a soft kiss. 

 

“What if I said I have been?” You whispered against his lips. You heard a low, quiet growl in his chest in reply. 

 

“You're so fucking beautiful and I can't believe it took me so long to tell you,” he rasped, dropping his head to your shoulder kissing every inch of your skin he could reach. He moved along your collarbone and stopped to suck and then bite a mark into your skin and you let out a small cry of pleasure. He groaned in return, pulling his head back up to rest his forehead on yours. 

 

“God, baby, those pretty noises are gonna make me come again,” he panted.

 

“Well, we can't have that,” you replied with a wry smile. “At least, not until you're inside me.”

 

That was it, that was the final straw. Bucky snapped and within seconds he tore the rest of your suit off, leaving it on the floor at your feet, shredded. You blinked a couple times, trying to catch up to what had just happened, and you watched as he rid himself of his own pants just as quickly, albeit, less violently, you noted.

 

You found yourself staring this time, ogling him openly as his length sprang free. You could admit you had spent plenty of time thinking about it, but nothing could prepare you for seeing his cock, red and leaking, and knowing you were the cause. You felt a new surge of arousal pooling between your thighs.

 

A heartbeat of silence passed as you both took each other in, and then he was on you. One hand tangled in your hair, the other grabbed your ass, and he pulled you into his body, connecting every inch of skin that he could. He captured your lips in a searing kiss, both of you moaning as your tongues slid together. His hand in your hair let go as he continued to kiss you, deeply, and he brought in down to grab the back of your thigh, moving his other hand to do the same. 

 

“Jump,” he instructed, and you immediately complied. He used the momentum to lift you up onto his hips and slam you back against the door in one motion. He held you there, suspended, his tip resting so it brushed against your center, and stilled, locking his eyes with yours.

 

“I'm sorry, baby. I wanted our first time to be slow, wanted to show you how much I adore you, but I'm not going to last,” he strangled out through gritted teeth. You could see in his face, the tightness of his jaw, how hard he was working just to slow down enough to tell you this. He looked downright in pain.

 

You smiled back and cradled his face in your hands, giving him a sinfully suggestive look. You pulled him in for a kiss and you felt him tense around you, trying to keep his hips still. You brought your mouth to his ear.

 

“Bucky, please…” you whined breathlessly, and with a deep vibrating groan, he pushed himself inside you.

 

You cried out at the sensation, throwing your head back as the feeling overloaded your senses. God, he was big, and you needed to adjust. Thankfully, he seemed to notice the look on your face and he kept his hips still. 

 

“You okay, babe?” His brows were knit together in concern. He searched your face for any sign he hurt you and when you looked back, you saw he was worried. 

 

You pulled your head off the door and smiled at him, moving your hands back to run through his hair.

 

“I'm fine, Buck. I'm… great,” you breathed, feeling yourself relax again.

 

You narrowed your eyes at him and bit your lip and he curled his brow in question. You tightened your legs around him and proceeded to rock your hips into his, slow and dragging and it was his turn to cry out in response. His grip on your thighs tightened and you knew you would have bruises there tomorrow.

 

Then he was moving, pulling out just to slam his hips right back into yours. A series of moans spilled out of you in response and it only spurred him on. He set a punishing pace, railing you against the door. You clawed at his shoulders, knowing you were leaving marks, dragging your nails across any part of him you could reach. One arm draped down his back, the other tangled into his hair, tugging it slightly, pulling a wicked moan out of him.

 

All of a sudden, you were teetering right on the edge of orgasm, so quickly you couldn't believe it. You tried to hold it back, wanting to keep feeling the waves of pleasure he was sending through you and assuming he was nowhere near as close as you, but he interrupted your thoughts.

 

“Baby, I'm so close,” he rasped out, hoarsely against your ear. “I know you are too, I can feel it by the way you're squeezing me- oh, fuck-” he bit out, trying to stay in control. “Let go, sweetheart. Come all over me.”

 

And you did. Your orgasm slammed into you like a freight train. You saw galaxies swirling and for a moment you couldn't breathe. In that moment you knew two things; you had never come that hard in your life, and he had ruined you for anyone else.

 

You heard a series of strangled grunts from him and his hips became stuttered and uneven as he obviously came with you and continued to pump into you to ride out both of your highs. When his hips finally stopped, he dropped his head to your chest panting and you rubbed his shoulders soothingly. 

 

After a few moments, you felt him pull out and he set you back on your feet. He brought his right hand to your chin and tilted it up so he could place a soft, slow kiss to your lips. He pulled away and you smiled up at him.

 

“Sorry, sweetheart. I probably should have been slower and sweeter but-” you cut him off by crashing your lips into his and driving your tongue in his mouth, your hand on the back of his neck holding him in place, until he moaned in your mouth. You pulled away with a sly smile. 

 

“Stop apologizing. You said it yourself; I like it a little rough,” you winked, releasing your grip on his neck and sauntering off toward his bedroom and the adjoining bathroom. 

 

He watched you go, his mouth twisted in a stupid grin. Fuck, that was hot, he thought as he watched your hips sway.

 

“You comin’, Soldier?” You called back to him as you disappeared into his bedroom.

 

He shook his head a little and stalked off after you. He paused in the doorway to the bathroom, leaning against it as he watched you. You were sitting on the edge of the tub, leaned over, turning the water on and adjusting the temperature. He fought the urge to smack your ass, not wanting to cause you to fall into the basin. 

 

“I thought maybe a bath would be nice,” you said, turning back to face him. “Good for the muscles… plus, the point of the shower was so you could pin me against the wall and fuck me senseless, and you did that already.” You gave him a teasing smile as you pushed off the tub and started searching around the space.

 

He watched you look around shelves and move towels for a moment before cocking his head and asking, “What're you looking for?”

 

“That epsom salt I got you, the spearmint and eucalyptus one. I know you've used it. I smelled it on you the other day,” you said absently, rummaging through the cabinet over the sink, but you froze as you suddenly realized what you said… and what it implied. You tried to play it off, seeing what you were after on the top shelf, and you got up on your tiptoes to try to reach it.

 

Then you felt Bucky behind you, one hand reaching in front of you to rest on the counter top, the other reaching up and grabbing the epsom salt from over your head. He set it down on the counter next to you, but kept you pinned against the counter, your back to his chest. He ghosted his chin across your shoulders, scratching you with his stubble.

 

“You could smell it on me, hmm?” He asked in a gravelly tone, dropping soft kisses to your shoulder blades. “Was it a few weeks ago at movie night?”

 

Your eyes flew open and you turned to face him, your expression half shock and half curiosity. 

 

“Yes…” you replied hesitantly. “How did you know?”

 

He looked down for a moment with a quiet chuckle, and then you saw him straighten a little and his jaw clenched a few times.

 

“Because I remember that night, I remember it very clearly,” he began and he lifted his head to look at you, a strange look in his eyes that you couldn't really put your finger on, but it was all at once wistful and serious. “I remember we watched that god-awful movie you hated, not surprising since it was Banner's pick.”

 

“Yeah, I love the guy, but Bruce has terrible taste in entertainment,” you agreed with a grimace.

 

Bucky laughed a little. “About halfway through, you fell asleep on my shoulder, like you always do,” he added with a sideways smirk at you. You crinkled your nose, but you knew he was right. “And after a couple minutes I felt you shivering, so I reached over to pull the blanket over you that was on the back of the couch. When I moved my arm you slid down and ended up on my chest. I put the blanket over you, but when I tried to lift you back to my shoulder-”

 

“I put my arms around you and snuggled into your chest, and said ‘no’,” you finished, the memory flooding your senses.

 

He looked at your face, a knowing smirk on his own. “I knew you weren't actually asleep,” he said, preening. “Everyone told me just to leave you and let you sleep. I was so glad your eyes were closed and didn't see the look Steve gave me. Would’ve given me away for sure,” he remarked with a sheepish smile.

 

You felt your cheeks flush. He had carried you back to your apartment and tucked you into bed that night. When you woke up to find him on your couch the next day, he told you what happened and you had pretended not to remember, said you must have been asleep. But you were only half asleep, probably why you had the courage to say it.

 

“You smelled like spearmint and eucalyptus,” you confirmed. “And I really liked being snuggled into you. I didn't want to leave. You made me feel safe. You always have.” You confessed, biting your lip and looking away from his gaze.

 

“That was the night I knew,” he said just a little above a whisper. He moved his right hand from the countertop to rest on your cheek, compelling you to meet his eyes again. You furrowed your brow and cocked your head in question.

 

“Knew what?” You asked. 

 

“That I was a goner, that I was completely crazy about you,” he replied, running his thumb over your cheekbone.

 

You swallowed hard and were vaguely aware that your heartbeat picked up and you had to remind yourself to breathe… was he saying what you thought he was saying? 

 

You watched him take a deep breath and felt him mplant his stance a little firmer. He moved both his hands to sit at your waist, like he meant to both ground himself and keep you steady at the same time. He leveled you with his stare. And you immediately stopped breathing.

 

“I love you,” he breathed.

 

…Yes, he was saying what you thought he was saying…

 

For a moment you couldn't move. It felt surreal. You didn't know if you could trust your own ears. You told yourself to breathe when you realized your vision was getting fuzzy. You weren't sure how much time had passed and you also realized he was probably going out of his mind at your lack of reaction. You took a breath, intending to speak, but he beat you to it.

 

“I know that feels crazy and fast. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you and I hope you know, I don't expect anything,” the words were spilling out of him like a faucet and you could both feel and hear how nervous he was. “We can take this as slow as you want, I'm not going anywhere. I just couldn't keep pretending to feel less than I do. I just want to be honest with you-”

 

“Bucky.” You cut him off, placing a hand on his chest in an attempt to calm his pounding heartbeat. You gave him a warm smile and you visibly saw every part of him relax. “It's alright,” you said soothingly. “You don't have to apologize…” you chewed on your lip, trying to decide if you should say what you thought you might say next. You didn't want it to feel disingenuous. You didn't want him to assume you were responding out of anxiety. But you also wanted to be honest with him. 

 

“... You don't need to apologize or justify anything because I've been head over heels for you for months,” you began, and you could see his lips turning up into a smile, and you couldn't help but smile back. You dropped your head to his chest and giggled.

 

“God damnit, I love you, Bucky Barnes,” you breathed against his skin. And you heard him laugh in return, pulling you tight against him in a squeezing hug. You wrapped your arms around him in return and you both stood there, clinging to each other, for several moments.

 

You heard the faucet shut off and it brought you back to the present. You untangled from Bucky's arms and grabbed the epsom salt sprinkling some into the tub.

 

“Come on, babe, we don't have a lot of time,” you said as you stepped into the basin. Bucky followed, sitting against the back of the tub and pulling you against his chest once you sat down. You let the hot water soak in and relax you for a moment. Bucky rested his chin on your head and drew patterns on your arms absently. 

 

“When did you know?” He asked into the quiet. 

 

“Hmm?”

 

“When did you know you were in love with me,” he clarified. He picked his head up and looked down at you, you turned to rest your head on his shoulder so you could look up at him. You could feel your face heating, and it wasn't from either the hot water you were sitting in or the hot man you were sitting against. 

 

He pulled a lopsided grin as he watched you blush. “What? Is it that embarrassing??” He asked with a small laugh. 

 

You groaned and squeezed your eyes shut. “No, but it's embarrassing how long ago it was,” you mumbled. 

 

His eyebrows rose in surprise. “How long?” He said with a smirk. 

 

You bit the inside of your cheek and looked down. “You remember that first surveillance assignment we were sent on?”

 

Bucky's eyes got even wider. “That was almost a year ago?!”

 

“I know!!” You groaned. 

 

“You waited so long to make a move,” he laughed again, but he squeezed you tight against him and kissed your head, making sure you knew he was only teasing.

 

“Well, what was I supposed to do, say ‘hi, I know we only met 6 months ago and you find me a bit annoying, but what you just did made me fall in love with you’? How would you have reacted?!”

 

“First of all, I never found you annoying. I just pretended I did because I was so attracted to you, I didn't know what else to do,” he admitted. You raised your head to look at him and he had a timid look on his face but it quickly faded. “But, also, if I remember the events of that night correctly… I gave you a black eye!” He said with a pained expression. “And that's the night you chose to fall in love with me??”

 

“I don't think you get to choose when you fall in love with someone, or who, for that matter. It just happens,” you replied with a grin.

 

“I mean, I guess you really do like it a little rough- hey!” He yelped as you elbowed him in the ribs a bit, but he was laughing. 

 

“It wasn't that, you kinky bastard,” you chided, but you were laughing too. “For reasons I will never understand- whether you were just incredibly bored, or felt some strange need to impress me, or what- you decided to show me how to knock someone unconscious with a peanut. I humored you, because I had such a huge crush on you, and let you demonstrate… even though I can use almost anything as a projectile already… and then the next thing I know something goes awry and I've got a shiner. I can't tell you why, but at that moment, I knew I was done for, knew I was never gonna get you out of my system. Thought Tony was going to murder you for sure when we got back to base, though.”

 

You saw Bucky grimace. “Yeah, I remember, and I thought I might let him because I was so ashamed of myself for hurting you.” He had a more sober tone now. You hadn't stopped to think about how hard that must have been on him. You reached your hand up to rest on his cheek. 

 

“It's okay, Buck. It was just an accident and I was barely even hurt. Don't give it another thought.”

 

“I know, but I still feel like I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you,” he replied and placed a kiss on your cheek. 

 

You turned around to face him, moving so you were straddling his lap, sitting on his thighs.

 

“The rest of my life? That's a long time,” you said, as you ran your hands over his chest. “You sure you wanna keep me that long?” You teased with a half smile, and then moved in to place kisses along his jaw and down his neck. You heard him gasp as you bit softly at his shoulder, and his hands flew to grab your hips and push you down against him.

 

“Yeah, baby, God, yes I wanna keep you that long,” he breathed as you rocked your hips against his hard length. His metal hand reached down between you and ran between your folds, then dipped inside you, making you gasp and breathe out his name. You felt him twitch underneath you at the sound, and then his fingers were being replaced with his cock. You let out a moan as he guided you down and he sunk into you. He began guiding your hips to thrust himself in and out of you in slow, dragging strokes, making you whimper. It felt so good.

 

“A lifetime is a long time, Buck,” you breathed as he continued to impale you. “You might get sick of me.” You said it with an edge of teasing, but you also knew, deep down, you were afraid it might be true and the thought was terrifying. 

 

Bucky stopped his movements, holding your hips in place to keep you still. 

 

“Sweetheart, look at me,” he ordered. 

 

You slowly opened your eyes and brought your head down to meet his gaze. He looked serious and determined. 

 

“I want you, all of you, for as long you'll have me. I'm not going to change my mind. Unless you tell me to leave, I'm staying right here until the day you die, and I'm coming for you in the afterlife too,” he let his words sink in for a moment. “I love you. Stay with me forever?” He placed a soft, tender kiss to your lips and rested his forehead against yours.

 

You smiled, trying not to let your heart burst from your chest and you tangled your hands in the hair at the back of his neck trying to stay grounded. 

 

“Careful, Soldier, that sounded an awful lot like a proposal,” you teased, and you placed a soft kiss on his cheek. 

 

You heard a quiet chuckle and he moved a hand from your hip to hold your face so he could look you in the eye again.

 

“Maybe it was,” he quietly replied with a half smile, looking a little timid, but also a little hopeful. 

 

You felt your heart skip a beat. You tried to lighten the mood a little. If he was only teasing, you didn't want to ruin things. 

 

“Forever, it is, love,” and you felt him shudder at the new term of endearment.

 

He gave you a cocky grin, bucking his hips a little, reminding you that he was still inside you and you let out a small cry.

 

“Careful, love. That sounded an awful lot like a yes,” he warned in echo, and he pulled you into an aching kiss as he began moving his hips and guiding you to move yours again. 

 

You were getting lost in his movement, feeling that familiar tightness building in your center again. It took a moment for his words to float to you. And then you felt a stab of excitement mixed with his length hitting inside you. 

 

“Maybe it was,” you breathed back as he brought you to the edge. 

 

He growled and bounced you faster and harder and moments later you were both soaring off that cliff together.

 

At some point during your activities, one of you had kicked the drain loose and the water level was receding. Bucky lifted you off him and you quickly used what was left to clean up. He stood and reached down to pull you up to your feet as well. He smirked and gave you a wink when he saw how wobbly you were. But he wrapped his arm around your waist for support while you recovered. He reached past you and grabbed a towel off the rack, handing it to you and grabbing one for himself. 

 

You mumbled a thanks and wrapped it around your torso, stepping out of the tub. You stopped at the bathmat and grabbed a smaller towel to ring out your braid. Bucky stepped out behind you, a towel around his hips, and wrapped his arms around you from behind, one across your waist and the other across your shoulders. He rested his chin on your shoulder and pressed a kiss to your neck.

 

“Don't worry, love. I'm not going to hold you to anything you said while I was making you come,” he breathed against your skin. You could feel the smile on his lips. “That wasn't fair of me.”

 

You smiled and tilted your head so you could see his face. He was grinning, but you could see the tightness in his eyes and the way his Adam's apple bobbed. He wanted to play it off, but you knew he was feeling worried. He was a little scared. 

 

“Did you mean what you said?” You questioned, making sure he could see you were serious. 

 

His jaw ticked and he licked his lips nervously. But he steeled himself. 

 

“Yes. Every word,” he firmly replied. 

 

You could feel your smile grow. “So did I,” you assured him.

 

He grinned at you, wide and bright, more excited than you had ever seen.

 

“Then,” he began, placing a kiss to the tip of your nose, “I guess you're gonna be Mrs Barnes.”

 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and smiled. “I guess I am,” you agreed, and you met in a sweet, slow kiss. When you broke apart you looked up at him thoughtfully. 

 

“Well, metaphorically, anyway, I don't know that I really wanna change my name, I was thinking-”

 

He laughed at you, very aware of your string of thoughts on this, as he was your thoughts on most things. You were not known for hiding your opinions. 

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he cut you off and kissed your temple. “I've heard it all. You'll still be Mrs Barnes.”

 

And before you could argue, he scooped you into his arms and carried you into the bedroom, setting you down on the bed. A moment later a disembodied voice called through the apartment. 

 

“Sergeant Barnes, Agent YLN, Captain Rogers wants me to remind you that you're due in the conference room for debrief in 5 minutes.”

 

“Friday, tell Steve he can go f-” Bucky began.

 

“Thank you, Friday. Tell Steve we'll be there,” you cut Bucky off to save him irritating his oldest friend and CO. You shook your head at him. “Buck, be nice. Poor Steve is just doing his job and he had enough trauma tonight already.”

 

You saw Bucky grumble but he nodded. “Yeah, I know. I just don't feel like sitting in a conference room. I'd rather stay here with you,” he kissed you. “Preferably, naked.”

 

You rolled your eyes. Uh oh. This could be problematic for the foreseeable future.

 

“Speaking of which,” you strode over to his dresser and pulled open a drawer. “I gotta find something I can wear.”

 

You combed through his drawers, coming up with a pair of boxers that had a drawstring. That should work. You slid them on and drew the strings up as best you could. You turned back around and Bucky was slipping a shirt over your head before you could move. Once you pulled your head through, you noticed it was his red henley. You ran your fingers over the hem.

 

“This is your favorite,” you remarked quietly. 

 

He kissed your head before turning towards the closet. “No, it's your favorite,” he replied. “I wear it all the time because I know you like it.” He was rifling through the shelves in the closet. He finally came back out holding something, and stood in front of you again. “It looks good, baby, you should keep it.” He gave you a cocky grin and you knew you were blushing.

 

“You can keep this too,” he said more quietly, as he opened his hands to show you a navy blue velvet box. He popped the box open and inside was a beautiful, vintage, art deco ring, diamonds and emeralds and white gold. You felt your breath catch. You reached out and ran a finger over the stones in awe. It was strange, but it seemed familiar somehow. 

 

Bucky took the ring out of the box and tried it on your finger. It was too big, unfortunately. Not surprising, since he hadn't been planning on proposing tonight. But it still made him a little sad that you couldn't wear it right away. 

 

“Buck it's so beautiful,” you breathed as you looked at it on your finger. “But the minute I gesture, or start signing, it's going to fly off and knock someone unconscious.” You said with a chuckle. “We'll have to get it sized.”

 

Bucky thought for a second. He took the ring and tried it on your right hand. It fit nicely. “How about this for now?” He asked. 

 

You thought for a moment. You didn't want him to think you were second guessing, because you weren't, but you were concerned about sharing it with the team right away. You didn't feel in the mood to deal with what you were sure would be a wall of concerns. 

 

“What if we just kept it to ourselves for now?” You suggested, praying he wouldn't be hurt. 

 

He furrowed his brow. He didn't look upset, but he put the ring box down and took both your hands in his. 

 

“Sweetheart, if you want to slow this down, we can. I'm not going to be upset. I love you no matter what and I don't need you to wear a ring to prove to me how you feel. Just say the word and we'll press pause,” he soothed, kissing your hand. 

 

You smiled, wondering how you had ever doubted telling him how you felt would be a good idea. “No, Buck, that's not what I want. But I do think showing up to a meeting, engaged, after two hours might cause a riot, and I'm just plain too tired to deal with it right now. It has nothing to do with how I feel about you,” you reassured him. 

 

 

“Well, if you wear it on the wrong hand and on the wrong finger,” he said, moving the ring to your middle finger, “No one will suspect anything.”

 

You sighed. You did love looking at it and knowing what it meant.

 

“Alright,” you agreed and kissed his cheek. “But we wait to tell the team until I'm ready, okay?”

 

“You got it, babe. Not until you say so,” he kissed your cheek in return.

 

He turned back to his dresser finding a T-shirt to throw on. You looked back at the ring and then you remembered.

 

“Hey, I've seen this before, haven't I?” You asked, furrowing your brow in concentration. 

 

Bucky popped his head through the shirt and gave you a sheepish grin. “Yeah, you've seen it. I picked it up in a shop when we were in Minske a few weeks back. Remember, we were walking by and you said you liked all the art deco jewelry they had in the window?”

 

You tilted your head and thought for a moment. You did recall what he was talking about. Art deco is your favorite and you had indeed liked the things in that shop. But you couldn't recall him going into it.

 

“I do remember. I just don't remember you buying anything,” you placed a hand on your hip and gave him a knowing look. “Much less, you buying me an engagement ring. I feel like I would have noticed,” you remarked wryly.

 

He laughed, grabbing your hand to move you toward the door, knowing you were already late. 

 

“I went back the day we flew out. Asked Steve to keep you distracted,” he confessed as you both left his apartment. 

 

You stopped in your tracks. “Wait. Steve knows??” You looked at him aghast.

 

He ran his hand through his hair nervously. “I mean, Steve knows how I feel about you. He probably knew before I did. He doesn't know I bought you a ring. I told him I was getting you a gift, which, at the time, was the truth. I don't know why I picked that, it just struck me as you. But I guess even then I knew, subconsciously,” he licked his lower lip, moving his hand up to hold your jaw and run his thumb over your bottom lip. “I knew that I would end up with you.”

 

You relaxed a little as you pressed the button to call the elevator. He pulled you into him, forcing your hands to wrap around his shoulders as he held you flush to his body. 

 

“One more kiss before we have to face everyone else,” he whispered and then he captured your mouth, searing his lips to yours. 

 

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. You expected it to be empty, but unfortunately, you were wrong.

 

You broke from the kiss just in time to turn and see Clint staring at you both. His eyes immediately went to the ring on your hand and you saw the pieces snap together in his mind. 

 

“Uhhh, so you're-” and before he could get more words out, Bucky was in the elevator, clamping his hand over Clint's mouth, his eyes threatening. You stepped in behind Bucky, making sure you had Clint’s attention and began signing to him. 

 

“Shh! The cameras, please, we didn't want to tell everyone yet,” you signed frantically.

 

Bucky looked back at you and you nodded. He let Clint go and backed away. “Sorry,” he said quietly. 

 

Clint shook his head dismissively. “It's fine, don't worry about it,” he signed. “You two are engaged, really???” He gave you a shocked look, signing “question” a couple times for emphasis.

 

“Yes! It's a long story. We weren't going to tell the team yet,” you signed back. “Eventually we will, but not today.” You stepped a little closer and gave him a pleading look. “Please, Clint. I need you to keep this to yourself. It's important to us.”

 

Clint dropped his head and laughed. “ Fine, I won't say anything” he replied. “But, remember, the team is all spies, geniuses, and mind readers.  Keeping a secret long term is impossible.”

 

You nodded. “I know, but please, just, keep quiet for now.”

 

Clint nodded in consent. He put his hand on your shoulder, smiled and pulled you into a hug.

 

“I'm happy for you, Kes,” he signed when you pulled away. 

 

You smiled and signed back a thank you. 

 

Clint reached over and clapped Bucky's shoulder, very hard, you didn't fail to notice, and gave him a look that very clearly said ‘I'm happy she's happy, but if you step out of line, they'll never find the body’. Bucky gave him a curt nod and cleared his throat.

 

The elevator dinged again and the doors popped open. The three of you exited and a moment later you were entering the conference room. 

 

“Oh good, you found them,” Tony remarked as you passed him to sit at the far end of the table. Bucky followed behind you and Clint sat next to Natasha, who was closest to the front of the room where Steve was standing, arms crossed.

 

You sat down quickly and quietly nodding apologetically at Steve. Steve cleared his throat and said the debrief was in session. He began recounting the events of the evening and asking for everyone's input.

 

You were attempting to follow along, when you felt a foot hook onto the bottom of your chair. Bucky slowly rolled you closer to him, and stopped when he was close enough to put his hand on your leg under the table. You swallowed hard, shooting him a look, trying not to be obvious. He just gave you a cocky grin and winked. Cheeky bastard.

 

You went back to listening, but you glanced over and saw the smirk on Clint's face, then looked up and saw Nat raise an eyebrow. You were too busy trying to stay calm and act unbothered to hear what Steve had asked.

 

“Right, not a threat, but in pursuit of one. He said he would get in touch with us if we need him,” you heard Bucky chime in to whatever Steve had been explaining.

 

You gave Bucky a puzzled look. You hadn't had a chance to share your encounter with the vigilante that you could recall. He smiled. 

 

“I filled Steve in while you were sleeping in the car,” Bucky explained. 

 

“Ah. Got it,” you replied.

 

“That's it for now, then. Dismissed,” Steve concluded the meeting and you and Bucky were the first to stand, taking a step toward the door. 

 

“Just one more little thing here, Cap,” Tony interjected and a screen behind Steve lit up with a video feed. “Friday sent an alert to a potential altercation in the residence elevators. Imagine my surprise when it turned out to be our favorite semi-stable-hundred-year-old man getting a bit handsy with Barton.”

 

And with that he proceeded to play the video clip from the elevator. With subtitles. Apparently, Tony decided you and Clint had too many secret conversations and found a way around it

 

You felt your eyes get wide and knew you were turning pale. So much for getting to do this on your terms. You swallowed and tried to keep yourself steady.

 

One by one, each person in the room turned to look between you and Bucky. Surprisingly, the only person who looked the least but shocked was Bruce.

 

“‘Bout damn time,” Sam broke the silence, smirking at you both. 

 

“About time? I didn't even know they were together,” Bruce said, completely confused. “Well, I mean we all knew you were always together, but not like, you know…”

 

“Sleeping together?” Natasha helpfully replied with a suggestive raise of her eyebrow.

 

“Nat!” You shrieked, burying your head in your hands, wishing you were having a bad dream. You glanced up at Bucky and saw him shrug, the look on his face was totally nonchalant and you didn't know how he was so calm. 

 

“Maybe we have been, you don't know,” Bucky said smoothly, a half grin on his face. “Who's to say we haven't just kept it to ourselves for months?”

 

You heard Clint scoff across the table and turned to look at him, a smug smile on his face. “We're a bunch of spies and super soldiers, we would have noticed.”

 

You felt yourself laugh a little and before you could stop yourself, the words were spilling out. “None of you have noticed Nat and Steve,” you pointed out.

 

As soon as the sentence left your lips, the horror of what you had just done hit you. Whatever discomfort you had felt before was compounded by shame and guilt, knowing you had just shared a secret that wasn't yours to tell. You slowly turned your head and timidly looked at Natasha, who seemed mildly surprised but not upset, and then to Steve, who looked completely horrified. Steve's arms fell to his sides as he stared at you slack jawed. You felt overwhelmingly ashamed of yourself and you gave Steve a pleading and apologetic look. 

 

“I'm so sorry,” you said quietly. “That was completely accidental.”

 

“Buck, you told her?!” Steve glanced past you and shot daggers at his oldest friend.

 

Bucky put up his hands, palms out, shaking his head. “Don't look at me, pal, I didn't say a word, not even to her.”

 

“Nobody told me, Steve, I figured it out,” you spoke up, not wanting to see this come between them.

 

“I knew,” Clint chimed in. “But, I always know everything. I just pretend I don't.”

 

“Yeah, since we're all piping up, not gonna lie, Steve, we all knew,” Sam confirmed with a hearty laugh and shake of his head.

 

Natasha turned her chair to face Steve and gave him a soft apologetic smile. “They're right, Rogers, everyone has known for months. We just all agreed,” she turned and gave you a pointed look and you dropped your head a little, “to keep quiet until you decided you were comfortable with them knowing.”

 

Steve shook his head in disbelief, scanning the room to get a read on everyone. They were all nodding in agreement. Sam was snickering. Bucky offered an encouraging smile. Natasha took his hand and brought his attention back to her. 

 

“It's alright, Cap. Nobody thinks any less of you,” she assured him with a warm smile. 

 

“She's right, Steve,” Bucky seconded. “We'll all still follow your orders. Even if we might wonder if they're really Nat’s orders.” Bucky snickered and then yelped when you elbowed him in the ribs.

 

“You're in the same boat, there, Winter Soldier,” Sam remarked, and then had to duck when Bucky threw a pen at him. The pen bounced off the wall where Sam's head had been, ricocheting back and nearly hitting Natasha instead.

 

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Children. You are all children,” she grumbled, quietly, eyeing each male in the room in turn, finishing with Steve. 

 

Steve gave her an incredulous look. “Even me?” He said, gesturing to his own chest. He gave her a disbelieving look, tilting his head. Natasha blinked, unwavering. 

 

“Especially you, Steve,” she deadpanned. But she quickly gave him a smile and pushed her chair from the table. “Are we done here, Stark?”

 

“Well, it's certainly been enlightening,” Tony replied as he stood. “Oh, also, tomorrow night, engagement party for these two,” he pointed at you and Bucky. “Before she wakes up and realizes what she agreed to, we better get a good party out of it.”

 

The room burst into laughter, Steve and Sam both nodding in agreement, Steve to the notion that you might regret this, and Sam to the excuse to throw a party.

 

The team stood one by one making their way toward the door. Tony was just about out of it, when he spun on his heel and called to you. You looked up at him, eyebrows raised.

 

“Toss me the ring, Hawklet,” Tony ordered. 

 

“Nope!” Clint called back, already down the hallway. 

 

“You know how much he hates that,” you chided Tony as you removed your ring and did, in fact, toss it to him.

 

Tony caught it and held it up examining it for a moment. “Surprisingly good job, Barnes. But it needs sized,” he said as a statement rather than a question. He turned and continued out the door. “I got a guy. I'll get it back to you,” he called back before you could take a step to follow.

 

You just shook your head with a smile. No sense arguing with him. You felt a hand on your arm and turned to Natasha who pulled you into a warm hug. You hugged back and smiled. 

 

“I'm happy for you,” she said genuinely as she pulled back. Steve stood behind her and she looked over her shoulder up at him. You couldn't help but grin at the look on both their faces. They were clearly glad not to have to maintain the ruse anymore. They looked happy. 

 

“We're both happy for both of you,” Steve echoed, discreetly putting his hand on Natasha's back. 

 

“We're happy for both of you, too,” you replied and you felt Bucky putting his hand on your back as well. For a moment you thought about how the mirrored posture and sentiments were sickeningly cliche and you had to try not to laugh.

 

The four of you exited the conference room and Friday killed the lights. You all headed to the elevator. As you were waiting, Steve suddenly turned back to you, his face scrunched in confusion. 

 

“How did you know if he didn't tell you?” Steve asked. “I know we were careful not to be seen together too much. How did you figure it out?”

 

You smiled a bit sheepishly, and turned to look at Bucky. The two of you exchanged knowing but uncertain looks, wondering if you should really answer. Bucky nodded toward you 

 

“Go on, babe, tell’im,” Bucky encouraged. 

 

You took a breath and tried to compose your face before replying. “Steven Grant Rogers. You are loud,” you answered him quietly, but determined to make your point without further explanation. 

 

Steve opened his mouth like he meant to reply, but quickly clamped it shut again. You watched a blush creep up his neck into his ears. You couldn't help it. You laughed. And then Nat and Bucky did too.

 

Bucky clapped Steve on the back. “Don't worry, pal,” he comforted. “If we told everyone all the things we can hear all the time, they would die of embarrassment.” Steve laughed this time. 

 

You all filed into the elevator. It paused at Natasha's floor first and the doors slid open. She got up on her toes and placed a kiss on Steve's cheek, making him blush again. 

 

“Meet ya downstairs?” She whispered to him. 

 

“Can't wait, sweetheart,” Steve replied, kissing her cheek in return. 

 

Natasha exited the elevator. The doors closed and it continued on. Steve had a silly grin on his face and you chuckled quietly. It was really nice to see him happy. 

 

“Whatcha doin downstairs?” Bucky asked Steve, wiggling his eyebrows and grinning. At that moment, you agreed with Natasha. Children. They were all children. 

 

Steve turned his head to you and seemed to straighten a bit and swallowed. “I'm gonna ask her to move in with me,” he answered Bucky. 

 

You stared in shock for a moment before throwing your arms around him in an excited hug. 

 

“Oh my God, that's amazing!” You exclaimed. You pulled away from him and clasped your hands together under your chin. “I'm sure she'll say yes. You guys are clearly crazy about each other.”

 

“Not as crazy as you two,” he shot back, and Bucky punched his arm, but smiled.

 

“How about you let us know after she says yes and we'll come down and celebrate with you?” You suggested.

 

“Yeah, and I'm sure Sam and Clint would like to be there too,” Bucky offered. 

 

“Clint went home to gather the clan for tomorrow,” you informed. “But yeah, Sam, for sure.”

 

“Alright, that would be nice,” Steve agreed. “And I guess if she says no-”

 

“She's not gonna say no, pal,” Bucky assured him. “Come on, I'll help you with whatever you're planning. It'll be great.”

 

You felt your heart warm at Bucky's offer of support. It was sweet. 

 

You leaned up to kiss him lightly. “Good idea, Buck. I'm gonna go make something to eat. Why don't you come over when you're done helping?” You suggested. 

 

“Alright, love,” he agreed and gave you another kiss. 

 

The doors slid open on your floor. You stepped to Steve and gave him a friendly kiss on the cheek. 

 

“Good luck, Cap,” you said and he nodded in thanks. 

 

You walked out of the elevator and into the hall, but before the doors closed, Steve called after you. 

 

“Oh, you better call your nephew before Tony beats you to it.”

 

“Shit, you're right,” you called back. “It's so late though.”

 

“He's a teenager. He's up,” Bucky yelled as the doors were closing. 

Chapter 3: Getting Your Head Out of Your Ass

The first thing you did when you got to your apartment was find pants. As hot as it was to wear Bucky's clothes, you knew the boxers were too big and you didn't want to hang out on the couch and accidentally give others a show. You kept his shirt though. It was comfy and smelled like him.

 

The second thing you did was text Clint and tell him that Steve was about to ask Natasha to move in with him and suggest that he text her. Natasha was a trained spy. She probably already knew what Steve was planning. Clint knew better than anyone how self sabotaging she could be. She needed to hear him tell her it would be okay. A moment later Clint replied that he was calling her now and you felt better.

 

You made your way back to your kitchen and rummaged through your fridge and cupboards to see what you could quickly make. You were growing increasingly aware that your stomach was growling. You pulled out several ingredients and set them on the counter, grabbing pans and cutting boards and such. 

 

“Friday, call Peter,” you called to the ever present AI. A moment later a holographic video feed popped up over your kitchen island and Peter's grinning face appeared.

 

“Hey, auntie!” He greeted you, waving, wearing the same big smile he always gave you.

 

“Hi, bug,” you replied smiling back before your attention turned back to your chopping. “What are you up to?”

 

“It's Star Wars marathon night. Ned’s here,” he said, turning the phone so you could see Ned sitting next to him.

 

“Hi, Agent YLN,” Ned said with a wave. You waved back.

 

“Hi, Ned. Where you at in the marathon?”

 

Peter flipped the camera so you could see the TV screen. Movie scenes were flashing in front of you. 

 

You vaguely heard Friday ask if she should allow Sergeant Barnes entry and you replied that she should. 

 

“... Yeah, but Ewoks are ridiculous!” You heard Ned say in the background of the video. 

 

“Maybe, but it's still my favorite,” Peter replied.

 

You smiled a little sadly to yourself because you knew why. “It was my brother's favorite,” you said softly and you saw the look on Ned’s face soften too.

 

You saw Peter smile, his vision clouded with nostalgia for a moment. “Yeah, it was my uncle's favorite, and now it's my favorite,” he said proudly. “So back off!” He playfully elbowed his friend. 

 

You noticed Bucky had come into the kitchen and was standing at the stove, flipping the chicken in the pan. You chatted with the boys for a few moments more before they seemed to notice him. 

 

“Oh, hey! Sergeant Barnes!” Ned said enthusiastically, waving again. “Wait, isn't it like after midnight? What're you doing in Pete's aunt's-” he started thinking out loud and you couldn't help but quirk a smile. 

 

“Nah, it's cool. They're best friends. He's there, like half the time when I call, or visit,” Peter assured him. “It's not what it looks like…” Peter trailed off as he watched the sheepish grin on your face grow and then saw Bucky come up behind you to wrap his arms around you and put his head on your shoulder.

 

“Uh, auntie?... What's…” Peter started to question. But Bucky cut him off with an answer. 

 

“I asked her to marry me, kid. And, surprisingly, she said yes,” Bucky explained, grinning and placing a kiss to your shoulder.

 

“Woah, really?!,” Peter exclaimed.

 

“Yeah, bug, really,” you affirmed.

 

Peter looked shocked for a moment then grinned wildly.

 

“That's amazing!!” He all but shouted. 

 

He and Ned began a string of congratulations, talking over each other and laughing. You laughed too and thanked them, glad that Peter was so happy about it. You weren't sure how he would react.

 

“Anyway, Tony is throwing us an engagement party tomorrow night. I wanted to make sure I got to tell you before he did. You're welcome too, Ned, of course,” you informed them.

 

The boys whooped. “Yeah, Mr Stark throws the best parties!” Peter declared. 

 

You just laughed and shook your head. “Okay, I'll let you guys go. Night, Ned. Night, bug, love you!”

 

Ned waved goodbye.

 

“Night, auntie, love you too! Oh, and goodnight… uncle Sergeant Barnes?” Peter ventured with a raised eyebrow. 

 

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Just call me Bucky, kid. Night,” and with that, Bucky snapped his palm closed and disconnected the video call. 

 

Bucky pulled you tighter against him. You looked over your shoulder at him and he smiled.

 

“That went well?” He remarked but still seemed a bit uncertain. He didn't know Peter very well. He couldn't know if maybe he was being polite but was actually worried. Then he had a thought. 

 

“Should I have asked for his blessing, since he's your only family?” He wondered out loud. 

 

You laughed, trying not to be insulted, and pulled out of his grip to start plating up the food you had made. You shook your head at him, continuing to serve dinner and clean up dishes. 

 

“No, Barnes, you did not need to ask my teenage nephew for his blessing to marry me,” you said, trying not to sound too snarky or even defensive. You knew this was just a remnant of a bygone era that he sometimes couldn't leave behind. 

 

“Sorry, love, I didn't mean anything by that. It was a thought that just slipped out,” he apologized and took the plate of food you handed him, but grabbed your hand before you could turn away, his eyes searching yours for a read on what you were really thinking. 

 

You smiled at him, making sure he saw you weren't upset. “I know, Buck, don't worry. It's just a silly notion that I would need someone's permission to make decisions for my life. But I know that's how it used to be done and I don't blame you for it.”

 

He nodded and let go of your arm. You gestured for him to follow you to the table so you could eat. You sat and ate in silence for a few moments before Bucky spoke up. 

 

“This is great, doll, what is it?” He asked. 

 

“Paprikash. Wanda used to make it all the time and she taught me- shit! Wanda!” You stopped eating and put your hands to your forehead with a grimace. “I don't want her to hear it from someone else, but it's way too late to call her. I don't want to wake up the twins.”

 

“Just send her a text,” Bucky offered as he continued shoveling down his dinner. He was clearly very hungry. 

 

You rolled your eyes with a groan. “You cannot text one of your closest friends to tell them you got engaged. That is not a text message thing!” You protested and Bucky just shrugged. 

 

“If anyone I know wasn't already in this building, I would text them,” he stated. But then something occurred to him. “I can text Vision, if you want?” He suggested with a raise of his eyebrow. 

 

You were about to protest and double down on sharing important, life altering information in person or at least via video call, not text, but you stopped, your face contorting for a moment as you contemplated. You sat back and furrowed your brow, staring at your plate. 

 

“Actually, yeah,” you finally replied. 

 

“Oh, really?” He said, raising his eyebrow in surprise. “You want me to text him?”

 

You nodded, having had an idea. 

 

“Yes!” You said, enthusiastically. “You text Vision and tell him and ask him to have Wanda call me if she's still awake. Oh, that's actually a great idea,” you said mostly to yourself. 

 

You heard Bucky chuckle, but his phone was in his hand. “I guess sharing important, life altering information via text is acceptable after all.”

 

“I guess it can be… for guys anyway,” you conceded and he laughed. 

 

“Whatever you say, doll.”

 

No sooner had he sent the message, then Friday was telling you that you had an incoming call from Ms Maximoff. You told her to put it through and Wanda's face appeared hovering above the empty end of the table. 

 

“Oh, good, he finally asked you. It was getting to be impossible not to say something. I just stopped calling like three weeks ago because I was afraid I would let something slip,” Wanda launched into a speech without evening saying hello. 

 

You stared at her speechless for a moment before you could form a reply. “I'm sorry-what? You knew he was going to ask me to marry him? How? He didn't even know!”

 

She snickered, her head rolling back just a little and nose wrinkling. She held up her hand, red energy lacing around her fingers.

 

You dropped your jaw. “Wanda! You did not read his mind!” You exclaimed in total shock. You glanced at Bucky who was watching her and looked a bit irritated. 

 

“She better say no or I might not be nice about it,” Bucky said, setting his jaw, but you noticed he had a blush creeping up his neck.

 

Wanda put up her hands defensively. “Not on purpose!” She swore. “I promise you, I don't do it without permission… but,” she began, giving Bucky a knowing smirk, “sometimes people's minds are so loud that I can't help but overhear, so to speak.”

 

You watched as a look of understanding settled over Bucky's face. Then you watched as that blush crept all the way up his neck, into his ears and across his face. He reached up and ran his metal hand across it and his eyes flicked to Wanda's floating holographic head. 

 

“It was that night, wasn't it,” he more stated than asked. 

 

Wanda tilted her head a little, a look of sympathy but also the tiniest hint of a smirk on her face. “Yeah, I'm afraid so,” she confirmed. “I heard you like you had basically shouted it from the rooftop. It was rolling off you in waves and I couldn't ignore it, Barnes, I'm sorry. But the moment you realized you were madly in love with her, you kept picturing that ring in your head and I knew it was only a matter of time.”

 

You were just looking back and forth between the two of them, dumbfounded. You really shouldn't have been surprised. You always kind of assumed Wanda “saw” things, ethereally, that she just ignored or kept to herself all the time, but it didn't occur to you how hard that probably was to live with.

 

“Well, we appreciate you keeping it to yourself and letting us two idiots figure it out on our own,” you told her with a small smile. 

 

Wanda just gave you a warm grin. You told her about Tony's insistence on throwing a party and she said they wouldn't miss it. She told you how happy she was and Vision popped into view after a while to give you and Bucky his heartfelt congratulations as well. You were just about to hang up, when two smaller heads came into view. Apparently, one of them had woken up, and heard his parents talking, so they had both come to investigate.

 

“Boys, what are you doing up?!” Wanda asked. “I better go get them back to bed. We'll see you tomorrow-” she started to say goodbye, but the twins interrupted. 

 

“Wait, we want to say goodnight too,” Billy whined and Tommy seconded the request. Their heads became the focus of the screen, both grinning and waving. 

 

“Goodnight, boys!” You waved back. “Listen to your mom.”

 

They giggled and were gone. Wanda and Vision said goodnight and they were gone too. 

 

Bucky had gotten up to clean and put food away. When you joined him back at the counter, he was closing the fridge and staring at a photo that was hanging from a magnetic bottle opener. You knew the photo. It gave you a small pang of sadness to watch him examine it. 

 

“That was our last trip together,” you said in a hushed tone.

 

Bucky looked back at you, seeing the sadness in your smile. He felt his heart clench seeing you like that and he wished he could take that feeling away from you. 

 

“You guys look really happy. Where were you?” He asked, gesturing to the lake and mountains in the photo.

 

“The Cascades, Washington,” you answered, staring back at the picture and thinking about that day. “That lake was a really long ways up. We trained that year so we could do it, deal with the elevation gain without getting sick. It was worth every moment. I'll never forget how beautiful it was. Peter and my brother swam in the glacial water. Too cold for me.”

 

“I'm sorry I never got to know him. I know how much he meant to you. I wish I could have met him,” Bucky said, taking your hand. He gave it a squeeze and it helped clear the mist from your head. You blinked a little and smiled warmly at him. 

 

“I do too,” you agreed. “But I know he would be glad I'm not alone.”

 

“You'll never be alone, baby. I promise,” he replied and pulled you into his arms, tucking your head under his chin and running a soothing hand down your back. You sighed and burrowed into his chest, letting his scent ground you. A moment later, Friday interrupted. 

 

“Agent YLN, Sergeant Barnes; Captain Rogers is requesting you join him in the downstairs common area.”

 

“Thanks, Friday. On our way,” you replied.

 

“Alright, better go,” you said, pulling back and kissing the tip of Bucky's nose. You took his hand and both of you headed out of your apartment.

 

***

 

You opted to enter the common area on your floor instead of taking the elevator. You headed to the end of the hallway and went through the double glass doors, putting you on the middle floor of the common area.

 

It was an open space that ran through three residence floors, the lowest level being Natasha's apartment as well as Clint's, though he didn't use it much, the second floor being you and Sam across the hall, and the top floor being Steve and Bucky. Each floor had alternating mezzanine areas with comfortable places to relax and various things to do, like games and fireplaces and bookshelves. The bottom level was a communal kitchen and living space. Stairways wound through the levels connecting them. You could stand at any level and look down into the large conversation pit below. Each connected floor had an entrance to their respective mezzanine from the residence hallway.

 

You and Bucky entered as quietly as possible and snuck to the edge to stare down at Steve and Natasha below. They were sitting at the dining table. There were candles all over and several bouquets of flowers too. Steve was kneeling in front of Natasha's chair, but you couldn't quite hear what he was saying. As you both watched, grinning, Sam came in behind you. You felt him nudge your arm and leaned in so he could keep his voice down. 

 

“The funny thing is, I think he was planning on doing this tonight anyway, so I don't think we really spoiled anything by telling him the team knew,” he shared, which actually made you feel better about your unbelievable slip of the tongue earlier. 

 

“Thanks, Sammy,” you replied and put your head on his shoulder gently in gratitude. 

 

“Anytime, Kes,” he said. 

 

“Hey! Only Hawkeye gets to call me that,” You said sternly, picking your head up and elbowing him a little more sharply. Sam suppressed a snicker. 

 

“Guys,” Bucky whispered to both of you, jerking his head back to Steve and Natasha and you and Sam looked back to see Steve standing and Natasha jumping into his arms. You grinned and prepared to descend the stairs, but Sam grabbed your arm and handed you some kind of canister, reaching behind you to give another one to Bucky. You gave him a questioning look. 

 

“On three,” Sam said, holding his canister in front of him, aimed upward, gesturing to you two to do the same. You both compiled, now realizing what you were holding. 

 

“1…2…,” he mouthed in silent countdown. “...3!”

 

All three of you squeezed your canisters in unison. There was a loud pop and then gold confetti was flying through the air and filtering to the first level. 

 

Steve and Natasha whipped around and looked up at you smiling and laughing. 

 

“Congratulations!” You yelled, jumping up and down with excitement. 

 

“Yeah, congrats, you two,” Sam seconded.

 

You, Sam, and Bucky hopped down the stairs and took turns engulfing the couple in embraces. Everyone continued to share words of excitement and congratulations. Bucky clapped his oldest friend on the back, hard, and drew a hearty laugh. Natasha was beaming and you giggled as you pulled confetti out of each other's hair. You heard another, louder, pop and looked back to see Sam was opening a bottle of champagne and then you all had glasses in your hands and were taking seats around the conversation pit. 

 

Steve sat down and Natasha curled into his side. They really looked perfect together. Bucky sat opposite of them and before you could sit yourself, he was yanking you down into his lap. Sam rolled his eyes as he passed you and sat on the other side of the sofa, giving you a purposefully wide berth. 

 

“Buck, come on, we don't need to make anyone uncomfortable,” you protested. You squirmed against his grip, which was less than normal, since one hand was holding his glass of champagne. You used this to your advantage and pressed and wiggled until you were seated next to him on the couch, your back pressed to his side and his arm around your waist, instead of on his lap.

 

“Aw, no fair,” he pouted.

 

You patted his thigh and chuckled. “You'll survive, Soldier.”

 

Sam raised his glass, signaling that he wanted to say something. Everyone turned toward him, their own glasses poised.

 

“Steve, I'm so glad you finally got your head out of your ass-” Sam began, but Natasha interjected. 

 

“Now, now, Sam, you know Captain America doesn't like that kind of talk,” she chuckled, eyeing Steve with a wry grin.

 

Steve rolled his eyes and ran his hand down his face with a groan, though it certainly had a playful undertone. “I changed my mind, my offer is rescinded,” Steve said, and, to everyone's surprise, he straight up tickled Natasha, causing everyone to burst out laughing. 

 

“As I was saying!” Sam spoke up again. Everyone quieted down and gave him their attention once more. “Steve, I'm truly happy for you. You guys are good for each other. Also, Natasha,” he gestured toward her with his glass, “He's your problem now, so good luck!”

 

Everyone laughed again. Steve shook his head and muttered under his breath that Sam was an idiot. 

 

“To Captain America and Black Widow!” Sam announced, raising his glass. The rest of you mirrored his gesture and sipped your champagne. 

 

“I gotta say one thing, though, Bucky” Sam said once the glass left his lips. He raised his eyebrow. “I am glad they'll be on your floor and not mine.”

 

Everyone laughed anew and Steve turned very red. Natasha looked up at him waggling her eyebrows suggestively. Bucky laughed so hard, his arm around your waist was practically squeezing the air from your lungs. 

 

“Buck!” You whined, gasping a little. “Baby, I can't breathe.” You wiggled against his hold, still laughing. 

 

He gave a very quiet yelp and eased his grip noticeably. “I'm sorry, love,” he apologized. The look on his face was so worried, that you had to stifle a laugh. 

 

“It's okay,” you assured him, placing a hand on his cheek. “Not a big deal. It's just if you want me to live long enough to actually marry you, I need to keep breathing,” you teased, placing a small kiss to the tip of his nose.

 

“Aww,” Natasha practically squealed, and everyone else chuckled.

 

“Ya know, we're all forgetting,” Steve began, drawing the attention of the room. “I'm not the only one who finally got my head out of my ass today.” He gestured toward you and Bucky with his glass. “To these crazy idiots in love.”

 

Everyone cheered in congrats. You turned to look up at Bucky as you rested against his side and he quickly ducked down to steal a kiss, winking as he pulled away. 

 

“Actually, come to think of it, I'm glad all’a y'all are gonna be on the same floor,” Sam remarked, giving you all pointed looks over his glass as he drank. “You supersoldiers’ll make the whole damn floor shake.”

 

You gave him an unamused look. “Who says we won't be at place, Sammy,” you replied, purposely irritating.

 

“Now we will, for sure, just to make you uncomfortable,” Bucky replied with a wicked grin.

 

“I need a refill,” Sam groaned. Downing his glass he bounced off the couch toward the kitchen.

 

You smiled as you watched Steve staring at Natasha, trailing his fingers along her arm. He looked at her like she was the only person in the universe. You were so happy they had found each other because clearly they were made for each other.

 

Sam was coming around to refill glasses and set the champagne bottle on the coffee table before sitting back down. Before conversation could resume, Friday interrupted. 

 

“Agent YLN, Mr Stark wanted me to inform you that your ring has been returned to your residence.”

 

“Thank you, Friday,” you replied

 

Bucky tapped your side. “Sit up, babe,” he said, standing when you did as instructed. “I'll be right back.”

 

Bucky turned and left, heading up the stairs. You watched him disappear before speaking up. 

 

“Friday, add Sergeant Barnes’ biometrics to my apartment entry, please,” you spoke to the AI 

 

“Certainly, Agent YLN,” Friday replied. 

 

Natasha looked at you quizzically as she sipped her drink. 

 

“I'm pretty sure I know where he's going,” you answered her unspoken question. 

 

“That was fast with your ring, especially since it's the middle of the night,” Steve remarked. 

 

“Yeah, I kind of think when Tony said he had a ‘guy’ it was really just him,” you giggled. It was incredibly sweet that he cared enough to do that for you.

 

“Hey, how did he ask you?” Natasha asked.

 

You instantly choked a bit on your drink, trying not to cough too much. You were very aware that heat was creeping up your neck and your face was probably beet red.

 

“Everyone's gonna wanna hear the story, especially tomorrow night. I wanna know first,” she looked at you intently and giggled as she saw you blushing deeply. “Oooh,” she replied, eyes sparkling with amusement. “I take it this is not an appropriate story for sharing.”

 

“Well, that's not good,” Sam remarked with a laugh. “Nat’s right, everyone is going to ask about it at the party… oh, geez, what're you gonna tell your nephew when he asks?” Sam was straight up cackling now. 

 

You groaned, running your hand down your face. You had not really thought about that yet and suddenly you wanted to murder Bucky for asking you to marry him when he was balls deep inside you.

 

Everyone around you laughed just a little. 

 

“Fine, you can tell me later,” Nat said, winking at you. 

 

“No, cause then you're gonna tell him!” You cried, gesturing at the man wrapped around her. 

 

“Buck's gonna tell me anyway,” Steve said with a shrug. 

 

“So I'm the only one that doesn't get to know??” Sam whined. 

 

You turned to give him a very pointed look. “Do you really want to know that much detail about our “activities”?”

 

Sam visibly shuddered in disgust. “Nope, nevermind. That's already more than I needed to hear,” he said, downing his drink once more.

 

“I'll just have to come up with some version of the story that doesn't make me blush,” you commented.

 

But before anyone could reply, a voice called from the upper level and drew everyone's attention.

 

“YN YLN!!!” Bucky shouted, looking down at you. Everyone's eyes shot up to look at him, and the next thing you knew, he's climbing up to balance on the railing.

 

“... Bucky, what're you-” but before you could finish your sentence, he catapulted off the rail, landing on one knee in front of you with a thud. His left arm was bracing him, head bent toward the floor. He lifted his head up to look straight at you, with that smile that took your breath away, a mischievous grin on his lips.

 

“Will you marry me?” Bucky asked. He held out his arms and opened the ring box in front of you again, like he had earlier.

 

You burst out laughing, but swung your legs off the couch, so you were sitting up to face him. Sam was rolling his eyes and laughing. Steve and Natasha both chuckled a little, but we're staring at the two of you with affection. 

 

“Didn't I already say yes?!” You giggled, letting him put your ring back on your finger, the correct one this time. You looked down at it, grinning at the fact that it fit perfectly now. 

 

He stood up, grabbing your face and planting a strong kiss to your lips before you could protest. “Yeah, but I figured this would make for a better story, or at least one we could actually tell people,” he said quickly, giving you a wink. 

 

“Yeah, good thinking, pal,” Steve chimed in. “She already told us the proposal story wasn't exactly PG.”

 

You felt yourself blushing again, and downed your champagne, pouring another glass on its heels.

 

“Well, she wasn't wrong,” Bucky confirmed, cocking an eyebrow at Steve as he sat back on the couch. He caught you admiring your ring and he grinned, hooking his arm around your waist and lifting you into his lap, ignoring your protests.

 

“Too bad, sweetheart. You took the ring, that gives me the right to pull you into my lap whenever I want,” he concluded, nuzzling into your neck and tickling you with his stubble. You wanted to disagree, but you couldn't do anything but laugh and squirm.

 

“Alright, all you lovebirds, this has been swell, but I'm calling it a night,” Sam announced and got up and headed out, exchanging goodnights with everyone.

 

The four of you chatted for a while longer, polishing off the second bottle of champagne, before the lateness of the hour caught up to you. 

 

Natasha sat up and stretched. “Well, whaddya say, Cap, take me home?” She gave Steve a suggestive look with hooded eyes and you stifled a laugh when you watched him swallow and nod in silence.

 

You exchanged your goodbyes and watched as they exited through the glass doors into the hallway. You let yourself chuckle when you noticed Steve picked Natasha up and carried her bridal style into the elevator.

 

You turned your attention back to the man whose lap you sat in. “Alright, Soldier, our turn,” you said, trying to stand, but his grip tightened. You turned over your shoulder to give him a look. “Bucky, it's late, we should go to bed.”

 

“Mhmm,” he hummed against your shoulder. He pressed his lips to your neck, placing soft, slow kisses to your skin and you shuddered. You reached behind you, gripping the back of his neck firmly. 

 

“If you want to keep that up, you better take me to bed,” you whispered against his scalp, tugging at his hair. 

 

“Mmm, yes, ma’am,” he replied, his tone darkening, and then he was standing, taking you with him. In one motion, you were once again hoisted over his shoulder and he was climbing the stairs.

 

You let out an exasperated huff. “Barnes, I can walk, you know.”

 

“And I can carry you,” he responded matter of fact. 

 

Before you could respond, you were walking into his apartment and he let you back on your own feet. You stretched a bit and yawned, suddenly realizing how tired and heavy your limbs felt. You found yourself wishing he had carried you all the way to bed. Looking up, you saw Bucky coming back toward you -when had he left?- and then he was handing you a glass of water. You gave him a smile and reached out for the glass, but you wobbled a bit.

 

“Easy, baby,” he cautioned. He gripped your waist to keep you steady.

 

Using both hands, you managed to drink a few good gulps of the water. He took the glass back and set it down on the stand behind him. You were going to head to his bedroom but he saw you falter and his grip on your waist tightened.

 

“And that's why I carried you, love,” he chuckled. He hooked his free arm under your knees and picked you up again, cradling you against his body this time.

 

“I'm fine, Barnes,” you huffed, but you latched your arms around his neck nonetheless.

 

He let out a breathy chuckle as he walked you both to his bedroom. “So it's back to ‘Barnes’ now, hmm?”

 

“Well, I don't know what else to call you. You practically come every time I say your name,” you replied with a laugh and your head rolled back a bit further than you intended. It felt far too heavy. “It's a very specific kink, not that I'm complaining.”

 

Bucky chuckled again. He was setting you down on the bed, sitting up. You moved with the intention of lying down and nearly fell backwards. 

 

“Woah, hang on, sweetheart,” he said, gently guiding you back to sit up again. “You'll die of heatstroke wearing that many layers. As you’ve told me many times, I'm a human furnace, remember?”

 

He dropped to his knees in front of you, grabbing the waistband of your pants and guiding you to lift your butt so he could slide them off. You gave him a very sultry look. 

 

“Yeah, I think that's just an excuse to get me out of my clothes,” you suggested. He gave a half grin, standing to throw your pants over a chair and going to his dresser. He came back a moment later with a t-shirt.

 

“Would you rather I didn't try to get your clothes off?” He gave you a mischievous grin and gestured for you to put your arms up. You did so. He pulled the henley you were wearing over your head.

 

You looked up at him, starting to forget what you were talking about. You smiled. “Well, you succeeded. Now what?”

 

Bucky just laughed at you and then he was tugging the t-shirt over your head. “Now, doll, we go to sleep,” he replied, placing a kiss to your head and then he was guiding you backwards to lay on a pillow.

 

You whined a little in protest. “That's not fair. You can't undress me and then just tell me to go to bed,” you complained, but your eyes were already closing and before he could even respond you were asleep. 

 

Bucky grinned down at your sleeping form. For a moment, it struck him how you were laying in his bed, half naked, sound asleep, how he was going to crawl in bed next to you and hold you close, and he still couldn't believe it was real. Half of him still expected to wake up from a dream.

 

He walked back out to retrieve your water, grabbed some ibuprofen from the cabinet in the bathroom, and set them both on your nightstand. He grabbed the wastebasket and set it on the floor on your side of the bed, just in case.

 

He quickly stripped down to his briefs and then he was sliding into bed next to you. He laid on his side and was about to reach over and pull you into him, when you rolled over and curled yourself into his chest. He smiled down at you, as you sighed contentedly and snuggled closer to him.

 

He leaned down and kissed the top of your head, draping his arm over you. “Goodnight, sweetheart,” he whispered.

 

“I love you, Bucky,” you mumbled into his chest. 

Chapter 4: Widow's Bite

You woke up slowly to the sun streaming in through the wall of windows. You felt distinctly as if it had only been moments ago that you had fallen asleep and you quietly groaned. You attempted to rollover but you were being held down by an arm.

 

Your eyes flew open and for a brief moment you felt panic due to the fact that you were having trouble recalling where you fell asleep… or whose arm could possibly be around you. The person attached to the arm groaned a little and the arm around you tightened and pulled you back against him. You were instantly flooded by his scent and you relaxed. Bucky. It was Bucky who held you close, your back flush to his chest, his chin resting in the crook of your neck. 

 

As you woke up, the events of last night were coming back to you. You wiggled your left hand and felt the ring resting on your finger. You smiled. You moved your right hand to rest against Bucky's arm around you, rubbing circles on his forearm with your thumb. He stirred a little more, humming against your neck. 

 

“‘Mornin’,” he said, voice still heavy and gravelly with sleep. 

 

“Morning, Buck,” you replied. You sighed as his arm around your middle moved to trail up and down your side and he turned to kiss your neck where his head rested. 

 

“I like waking up to you in my bed,” he said against your shoulder, punctuated by kisses. “I like having you in my arms.”

 

His wandering hand was under the hem of your t-shirt, slowly pushing it up as his palm grazed your skin. He splayed his hand over your belly and pulled you back, tighter, against his body. You could feel his morning wood pressed into your ass. 

 

“I like having you pressed against me,” he whispered hoarsely. His hand continued upward under your shirt until he was cupping your breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers. 

 

You let out a low moan and he grinned, nipping at your neck. You reached your arm behind you and ran your hand up the back of his neck, making him sigh. His hand left your breast, traveling back down to slot between your legs, lightly running his fingers over your panties across your core. He drew a moan from you when he pulled the fabric aside to insert two fingers and you arched into him. 

 

You heard him chuckle against your neck and felt it rumble through his chest against your back. 

 

“I'll never get tired of having that effect on you,” he murmured as he slowly stroked your walls with his fingers. He pulled them out and moved up to draw circles on your clit. You whimpered and ground down against his hand. 

 

“I know, love, I want you too,” he rasped, and he was pulling your panties down. Once he got them past your knees, you were able to kick them off. You could feel him reaching between you to pull himself free of his briefs. You felt his hot, hard cock pressing into your ass again and you moaned, pressing back against him as hard as you could, and were rewarded with a strangled groan. He reached out and grabbed your thigh, hitching it up over his leg, opening you to him. His cock slipped past your ass and rested against your core and you whimpered. He grabbed his cock, rubbing the tip through your folds a few times.

 

“Bucky…” you whined. You felt him tense against you and heard a growl in his chest. He pushed into you and you gasped at the feeling. He paused, waiting for you to adjust to him, panting as he restrained himself. Several moments passed and you were desperate for him to move. “... Bucky…” you breathed again, tightening your grip on his neck. 

 

Then he was moving, thrusting into you with purpose, his strokes precise. You let out a cry as he hit that perfect spot inside you and you were straight up embarrassed by how quickly he had you teetering on the edge of your orgasm. His hand gripped your hip, guiding you back against every thrust.

 

You were a moaning mess, but you knew he wasn't close. You tried to hold back, wanting to wait for him to catch up. 

 

“It's okay, baby, just let go. Come for me,” he coaxed. He reached his hand around and applied pressure to your clit, in time with his thrusts, and you were gone. You came with a cry of his name and he growled as you milked his cock. He rode you through your orgasm, slowly stilling his hips, listening to your ragged breathing.

 

He pulled out of you and took your leg off his, giving you the room you needed to roll over and face him. He had a devilish grin on his face and you assumed you probably looked thoroughly fucked and that made him even more aroused. 

 

You gave him your own grin in return. You reached out and pushed against his shoulder, encouraging him to lie on his back. He complied with no resistance. You swung your leg over him and used the momentum to pull yourself on top and straddle him. You ran your nails down his chest and grinned as you watched him squirm under your touch, his hips bucking beneath you.

 

You stared down at his lust-blown eyes and bit your lip. “I like seeing the effect I have on you too,” you boldly shared, leaning down to kiss his collarbone. “I like watching you lose control when I say your name…” you leaned in so your lips brushed his ear while you spoke “... Bucky.”

 

He growled loudly and grabbed your hips, lifting you up then driving you down on his cock, drawing a cry from your lips at the sensation which was just shy of overstimulation. His grip on your hips remained and he started bouncing you on his cock. You were helpless to do anything and just along for the ride.

 

“Do you know why that drives me out of my mind?” He asked through gritted teeth, eyes screwed shut. “Why I go feral at the sound of my name on your lips, the sounds you make when I'm touching you?”

 

“N-no, Buck, why?” You replied breathlessly as he continued to rail you. 

 

“Because I could hear you,” he growled. “When you were alone, touching yourself, making yourself come. I could hear you moaning my name and it drove me wild.”

 

You could barely comprehend what he was saying because you were overwhelmed by the pleasure that was rising in you. He was panting and moaning beneath you and you knew from the stutter in his hips that he was close too.

 

“Oh, Bucky!” You cried as he hit your spot and you came again, fire licking through your veins. 

 

A half second later your name was falling from his lips as he came too with a cry. You both stilled trying to catch your breath. You dropped down to lay on top of him, trailing kisses along his chest and shoulders. Slowly, you pulled off him and rolled to lay at his side. He rolled to face you, reaching out to stroke your cheek with his thumb.

 

“I can't believe I waited so long to do that to you,” he said with a look of regret. “All that time, I knew you wanted me. I could hear you. It seems so stupid now.”

 

You bit your lip and leaned into his touch. “It's okay, Buck. I didn't say anything to you either. We were both scared. It doesn't matter anymore.”

 

You laid there holding each other for a few more moments before it occurred to you that you should find out what time it was. 

 

“Friday, what's the time?” You asked. 

 

“Good morning, Agent YLN. It's 10:43am. You have 18 new messages from Ms Maximoff, Agent Romanoff, Ms Bishop, Mr Parker, and Agent Barton, and a reminder from Medbay.”

 

You groaned. “Oh my God, that's so many.”

 

Bucky chuckled. “Well, I imagine everyone wants to talk about tonight and there's probably a lot of questions to answer. Sounds like someone either told Kate or told Kate to call you, at least.”

 

“Can't we just stay here and ignore everything,” you whined. 

 

Bucky laughed and sat up to kiss your forehead. “I am the last person to advocate for a crowd, but I think, in this case, no, sweetheart, we can't. Come on. We gotta get moving.”

 

He stood and rounded the bed, throwing the covers back and pulling you to your feet as well. You continued to complain, but you did as you were instructed. 

 

“I need a shower and clothes,” you remarked. 

 

“I know. Head back to your place. I'll get ready and we can meet back downstairs. There's already people gathering, I can hear them,” Bucky said. 

 

You yanked on your pants from the chair and nodded. “Alright. I'll see you down there.” You turned to leave, thinking about the people you needed to reply to and how this day was going to go, but Bucky grabbed your arm and stopped you. You took a moment to lock eyes. 

 

“I love you,” he breathed. He pulled you into a slow kiss, stealing your air. When he released you, you felt a little lightheaded. You gave a half smile and cocked your head.

 

“You better, Barnes,” you teased. “Or Sam’s gonna drop you from 30,000 feet, Clint will use you for target practice, and Wanda will make you believe you’re a house cat for the rest of your life.”

 

He just laughed and shook his head. You gave him a smirk and headed toward the door.

 

But a few moments later, you were running back in the room and throwing yourself into his arms, capturing him in a searing kiss. 

 

“God damn, I love you, Bucky Barnes,” you breathed, both of you laughing.

 

***

 

You managed to multitask by jumping in the shower and having Friday read your messages and dictating replies.

 

Clint let you know he told Kate to call you. Kate called a couple times, then messaged that Clint said she needed to call and she was freaking out because you didn't pick up. Wanda and Nat informed that you were being taken to find a dress for tonight, and no you didn't have a choice in the matter. Peter asked a series of questions about tonight, backpedaled and said nevermind, he would ask Tony, made a few more comments, then said he would just talk to you when he gets here. Clint sent another message that he had been forced to inform Kate because you weren't responding and she had her ‘crazy eyes’, which scared him, so he was sorry for spilling the tea. Kate, much like Peter, sent a string of messages of exclamation and congratulations and finally that she, too, would talk to you when she arrived.

 

You also had a reminder from the medical center that you were due for your birth control injection this week and made a mental note to make your way down there as soon as possible. Now was certainly not the time to get lax about that.

 

By the time you had sorted through all the chaos and sent replies, you were finishing up with your minimal daily make up routine and standing in front of your closet, trying to figure out what kind of clothing the day demanded. You settled on a comfortable outfit you often wore, wide leg jeans and a top which you were now realizing was the same color blue as Bucky's eyes.

 

You smiled a little to yourself in the mirror as you threw your hair into a loose dutch braid, thinking about how this was exactly what you looked like that night you had fallen asleep on Bucky's chest, the night he said he realized he loved you. He never said anything, but you knew he liked it when you wore braids. You knew because he braided your hair for you all the time.

 

You had once been sent on a surveillance mission that had turned out to be four days stuck in a room with absolutely nothing to do. He had noticed when you got bored one thing you did was braid and unbraid your hair and he asked you to teach him. You remembered laughing, thinking he was teasing you, but he insisted and the next thing you knew, he was spending hours practicing to perfect his technique. You couldn't even complain because the soft, rhythmic feel of his fingers running over your scalp was so soothing and relaxing.

 

After that, basically anytime you guys were relaxing, watching movies, waiting too long at a rendezvous point, long rides home on the quinjet, at some point he was pulling you to sit in front of him and braiding your hair. Even if it was already braided, he would claim it needed to be fixed and take it out to do it again himself. Reflecting on it now, you wondered if he was just looking for an excuse to be near you, to touch you. 

 

Friday interrupted your musings to inform you that both Peter and Kate had asked if you would join them downstairs. You stopped to put on some canvas shoes and grabbed your bag, knowing Nat and Wanda would surely make good on their statements about spending the day shopping and getting ready for the party, then you were headed down to the kitchen. 

 

You came down the stairs, scanning the area and were surprised when you realized how many people were already here. Steve and Sam were leaning against the far countertop, drinking coffee and talking quietly. Kate and Peter were at the table, eating something, and Natasha was hovering behind Kate a bit. It occurred to you that Peter and Kate hadn't met until today.

 

You walked toward the men at the counter who happened to be between you and the coffee. They didn't seem to notice, too involved in their conversation. You stopped and stared, crossing your arms and after a few seconds, they both looked at you. 

 

“Good morning?” Sam said.

 

“Maybe, but only if I can get to the coffee,” you snarked, gesturing for the two of them to scoot.

 

Steve snickered, nudging Sam to the side. “If you haven't learned how dangerous it is to get between her and caffeine when she first wakes up, you're very lucky,” Steve remarked with what was almost a grimace.

 

They shuffled over and you proceeded to work the espresso machine and make yourself a cortado. When you were steaming milk, you felt a presence, more of a nervous energy, hovering behind you, and smiled to yourself. 

 

“... Did you need me to make you one too, bug?” You asked over your shoulder.

 

You felt a pair of arms hug tight around your shoulders from behind and you laughed. “Yes, please,” Peter replied through his hug. “Thank you, auntie!”

 

“You're welcome, bug. Go ask Kate if she wants one too, please.”

 

“Oh, good idea!” Peter hopped back over to Kate and you went back to creating another drink.

 

You didn't bother waiting for him to return with an answer. You knew she would say yes. By the time Peter was back at your side, you turned around and handed him two mugs.

 

“That one's for Kate,” you gestured. “Go on,” you tilted your head back to the table where she and Natasha were talking. You followed Peter back over and were surprised to see him blush just a little and mumble to Kate that the coffee was for her as he handed it over.

 

“Thanks!” Kate replied with a bright grin in return. 

 

Hmm that was interesting. You should have known they would get along. Kate and Peter were very similar and they had a lot of shared experiences. The more you thought about it, the more it made sense that they would hit it off right away.

 

You rounded the table, and Kate caught sight of you and was standing immediately. You set your mug down, bracing for impact. Kate ran over to you and nearly knocked the air out of you with a forceful, excited hug.

 

“Oh my God, I can't believe you're engaged!!!” She squealed, holding her gorilla grip around you. 

 

You just laughed and hugged her back. “I kind of can't believe it either,” you echoed. She finally let go and pulled you to sit next to her.

 

“What happened?? How? You and Barnes were together this whole time? How come you didn't tell me?” She barraged. The last question had her pouting just a little at the idea that you wouldn't let her in on a secret.

 

“There was nothing to tell, Kate,” you assured her. “I mean we weren't technically together, though I guess everyone could tell how we felt about each other but us.”

 

“Well, yeah, we all assumed you were just choosing to ignore it or, more likely, seeing each other on the down low,” Kate accentuated the last part of her sentence with a pump of her eyebrows.

 

You rolled your eyes. “We really weren't, I swear. But, apparently, we might as well have.”

 

Kate laughed and sipped her coffee. “I guess you never know when something can suddenly change,” she remarked and you didn't miss how her eyes flicked quickly across the table and back. 

 

You smirked just a little over your own coffee mug at your lips. Anything further you might have said fizzled as the door at the far end of the room opened and Wanda and Bucky both walked in. Wanda was making her way over to you and you stood to meet her halfway. She pulled you into a warm embrace. 

 

“Congratulations, my dear,” she said with her head over your shoulder. You separated and she gave a heartfelt smile. “In case he hasn't told you, he really is completely crazy about you. I'm honestly shocked he was able to keep it to himself for so long.”

 

“Well, that's not all on him. I didn't exactly go out of my way to tell him how I felt either,” you countered. 

 

“Yeah, but you can blame me, doll, it's alright,” Bucky said from behind you. 

 

Wanda smiled at him and nodded. “ Very generous of you, James,” Wanda replied, with just a hint of snark.

 

You just shook your head with a snicker. “If you insist,” you told Bucky, placing a hand on his chest and a small kiss to his cheek.

 

Bucky grinned at you and pulled his arms from behind his back, revealing a small bouquet of bright red flowers that you instantly recognized. Your face turned to disbelief and he smiled even wider. You carefully reached out and took the flowers, running your fingers over the petals.

 

“Where did you get these?” You breathed, unable to look away from what you were holding. 

 

“The plant nerds on the greenhouse level-” Bucky began. 

 

“Uh, you mean the botanists?” Peter chimed in. 

 

You saw Bucky's jaw tick and you knew he was trying not to be annoyed. It made you giggle ever so slightly.

 

“Yeah, kid, the botanists,” he agreed as calmly as he could manage. “I asked if they could grow some and they were nice enough to do it.”

 

“I assume you used your scary Winter Soldier voice and they felt that it wasn't really a request,” you ventured a guess, raising an eyebrow at him. 

 

He ran his hand over the back of his head, a guilty look on his face. “Maybe… but I still got the flowers, didn't I?” He offered a lopsided smile and you couldn't bring yourself to protest any further. 

 

You tilted your head, looking up at him. “Thank you, Buck. I love them.”

 

He chuckled quietly and put an arm around your waist, pulling you close to kiss your temple. “I know, doll, they're your favorite.”

 

You gave him a quizzical look. “How did you know they were my favorite?”

 

“They're all over your place, babe. You have pictures and paintings and jewelry with them. You paint them all the time. Half your sketchbooks are full of ‘em,” Bucky replied with a grin. 

 

You didn't even know what to say. He just kept rendering you speechless with the level of thought and care he showed you. All you could do was smile and hope he could see how much you appreciate him. 

 

Peter came up beside you pointing at the flowers you were holding. “Those are really pretty,” he said admiring the bouquet. “I've never seen those flowers before. What are they?”

 

“They're called Indian Paintbrush, or Castilleja, depending on where you are,” you replied. “They don’t grow on this side of the Rockies.”

 

“Oh, that's why he needed the botanists,” Peter said, connecting the dots. “Wow, uncle Bucky, that was really sweet.”

 

“‘Uncle Bucky’?” Bucky repeated with a raised brow, but his eyes held a hint of amusement. 

 

“Yeah, I just figured, ya know, since you're marrying my aunt, and all,” the poor boy stammered a bit, eyes on his shoes.

 

Bucky chuckled and reached out to pat him on the shoulder. “It's okay, Pete. ‘Uncle Bucky’ is fine.”

 

Peter's face lit up. “Oh, okay, great!”

 

“I should get these put in water before Wanda and Nat say it's time to go,” you said, but before you could move, the bouquet in your hand was gone, replaced by a rapidly fleeting wisp of red energy. You caught Wanda's eye from across the room and she winked at you with a smile. You knew you would find the flowers somewhere in your apartment neatly in a vase later on.

 

“I take it the guys have been assigned to make sure you don't show up to the party in tactical gear?” you said, gesturing toward Steve and Sam who were still over by the kitchen counter, now chatting and laughing with Kate. 

 

“It looks that way,” Bucky replied.

 

“Good, then you can take my nephew- our nephew-” you corrected yourself, with a pointed look at Bucky as you saw his jaw tick. “You can take him too. It'll be nice for you to get to know each other a bit better.”

 

Bucky sighed, and for a moment Peter looked a touch nervous, but Bucky straightened with an amused grin. “Of course, love.” He lightly squeezed your waist where his hand rested. 

 

Natasha came up and placed a hand on your shoulder. “Should we head out? We have places to be.”

 

You nodded. “Alright, let's get this over with,” you laughed. 

 

***

 

You found yourselves in the back of one of the typical black SUVs in the Stark fleet, headed toward an undisclosed location somewhere in the city. Nat said Tony made you guys a reservation with some boutique. You were all sipping mimosas and chatting. Wanda said it was nice spending the day with adults for a change. Kate said it was nice to be referred to as an adult. Nat wondered if sending the guys alone would have disastrous consequences. Everyone laughed. 

 

“Oh! Can I see your ring?” Kate excitedly asked. She sat up toward you, hopeful you wouldn't mind. 

 

You nodded, slipping it from your finger and sending it flying toward Kate with a deft flick of your wrist. Kate snatched it out of the air with equal precision and held it up to the light, watching the stones sparkle. 

 

“Woah, that's very trusting,” Wanda said over a sip of her drink. “What if she had missed??”

 

You waved your hand in dismissal. “I knew she would catch it. She's a Hawklet.”

 

“Oof, Clint’s head would explode hearing that,” Natasha said with a smirk. 

 

“Well I'm allowed, so too bad,” you said smugly.

 

“Wait, why are you allowed? He makes me do chin ups when he hears me say it,” Kate complained with a pout.

 

You chuckled and raised your glass for emphasis. “Because you still answer to him, sorry, you gotta play by his rules. I used to be a Hawklet. Since I now answer to the Star Spangled Man with a Plan, there's not a damn thing he can do about it.”

 

Everyone laughed and Kate shrugged in acceptance.

 

A little later you found yourselves inside the “boutique”, which turned out to be a one-stop-shop, and the next thing you knew, all four of you were having your nails done, your hair styled, and being shown row after row of dresses to try. 

 

Kate giggled as she ran her hands over a rack of satin gowns, sipping from her mimosa. You got the feeling she didn't drink much and you had to stop yourself laughing as you watched her getting very excited about everything.

 

“If Tony- uh Mr Stark- put all this together in a day for just an engagement party, I can't imagine how extravagant he would make a wedding,” Kate remarked offhandedly.

 

“Oh, I can,” Natasha replied with an eye roll.

 

“Oh? Something you wanna tell us?” Wanda asked through a sip of her drink, eyebrows raised. 

 

For what might be the first time you had ever witnessed, be it ever so slightly, Natasha Romanoff blushed. Wanda looked satisfied with herself for eliciting this response. But Natasha quickly recovered. 

 

“No, no, no,” Nat assured with a dismissive wave of her hand, but the fleeting touch of color in her cheeks told you she had at least contemplated the idea. “But I do remember what it was like when Tony and Pepper were planning theirs. That poor woman, reigning in his increasingly-extravagant ideas was a full time job.”

 

You nodded absently to her as you walked by the racks of dresses, occasionally pulling one out to consider. They were all lovely but nothing was particularly striking you yet. Nat followed, perusing with you. There were so many options, everything started to kind of blur together. You found yourself starting to think about how all of this was kind of a blur, in general, so much happening in such a short span of time, and without your permission, you felt your heart rate start to climb and a faint ringing was building in your ears.

 

Natasha must have recognized it, because there was soon a hand on your forearm, bringing you back to the present. You let go of the gown you had been gripping and brought your eyes to meet Nat’s. Her gaze showed some concern but mostly reassurance. 

 

“Hey, just breathe,” she soothed. “I think you're probably just a little overwhelmed, and that's totally normal.”

 

You took a deep breath and gave her a small smile. “Yeah, I'm sure. I think it's just catching up to me, everything occurring all at once. Maybe I should have stopped to process a little more.”

 

Natasha set down her glass and faced you, putting a hand on each shoulder. “Listen. If this is all too fast and you need to stop the train, then that's exactly what we'll do,” she said firmly. She saw the look on your face and stopped you before you could voice your objections, shaking her head. “Nevermind what you think anyone else might think or say. That's not your concern. Your concern is you and how you feel and what you need. If what you need is to slow down, then slow down.”

 

Natasha smiled reassuringly and relaxed her stance as she watched your face. You took a moment to do exactly what she had suggested and just breathe. You knew you loved Bucky. You'd spent more time trying not to feel that way, trying to forget that you feel that way, and begging yourself not to reveal that you feel that way than you would care to think about. You didn't have any doubt that you wanted to spend your life with him. But it was still a big life change and it was just taking a minute for it to sink in. You focused back on Nat, giving her a confident smile.

 

“I'm okay. Really. Just a lot to take in at once, but I'm happy, I promise,” you told her with sincerity. 

 

Natasha nodded and smiled. “I know. I didn't think you really wanted to bail. But I wanted to make sure you knew that choice was always yours to make, if you needed it,” she said. She tilted her head and put on a wry smile. “Or even if you just wanted to do it to fuck with Barnes. It could be very entertaining to watch him panic, maybe even cry.”

 

“Nat!” You cried, trying not to laugh. “I wouldn't do that to him! That's just mean!”

 

Natasha just shrugged and turned her attention back to the dresses with a soft chuckle. “I got Laura to do it to Clint,” she said nonchalantly. 

 

You spun to face her, gaping. “You did not. Natasha Romanoff, why would you do that to your best friend?!”

 

She shrugged again, a sparkle in her eye. “It was a prank. And it was hilarious. I've never seen that look on his face since.”

 

You just shook your head in disbelief. Poor Clint. You were suddenly very grateful she was having this conversation with you and not Bucky. If they decided to play a “prank” like that on you, you may never speak to either of them again. Clint was either a more forgiving person than you or he loved her just enough more than he was angry at her and got past it. Either way, you gave him credit.

 

“I cannot believe you and Laura put the man through that,” you said as you moved to a new rack of dresses. 

 

“To be fair, it was only supposed to be a fleeting moment, but the broody assassin had to be dramatic and took off, off grid, before we could stop him. Long story short, I picked him up, back in Budapest, of all places, 3 days later, and that's why Clint is not allowed into the vodka anymore,” Nat related. She continued browsing. 

 

You just laughed. What else could you do? And then you realized you were feeling relaxed again. You stopped and gave Nat an appreciative smile. 

 

“Thank you,” you said.

 

“Anytime,” she replied with a grin.

 

“But I still feel bad for Clint,” you said, as you stopped to admire a satin gown.

 

“Eh, he's fine. Shouldn'ta picked me as a best friend, maybe, but he survived,” Nat chuckled. “Plus, in the end, it was a bonding moment for me and Laura. We got along fine, sure, but that kind of cinched it. Nothing brings people together like an international manhunt.”

 

“I guess I'll just be grateful Steve and I already have a relationship and we don't need to create a crisis to bond,” you laughed. 

 

You both continued to browse dress options until Natasha pulled out a specific one, holding it up to you. “This. This one is perfect for you.”

 

You looked over the dress. It was emerald green and satin with an off the shoulder neckline and sort of a looser mermaid silhouette and a high slit over the left side. You noted that it was the same color as the gems in your ring and it made you smile. Natasha made you try it on, and when you walked out everyone gave their enthusiastic approval. You looked at your reflection and smiled. You had to admit, it was really flattering.

 

Not long later, you were all arriving back at the tower, purchases and things in hand. You decided to head to Natasha's apartment so everyone could finish getting ready together. There was finishing touches on outfits and makeup and hair to be accomplished. Everyone was getting their dresses on when Friday announced that there was a package at the door. Kate went to grab it. 

 

“It's got your name on it,” she said as she walked back into the bedroom where everyone was getting ready and handed you the box. There was a note attached 

 

Congrats, auntie. Tony helped me pick these out. Hope you like it. Love you. - Peter

 

You furrowed your brow with curiosity as you opened the box. Inside was another velvet jewelry box that looked suspiciously like the one your ring had come in. You opened it to find a pair of drop earrings that perfectly matched your ring. You knew your face had a wide smile and you thought you might even shed a tear at how thoughtful this was on the part of your nephew.

 

You held them up so all the curious eyes around you could see. “They're from Peter,” you said.

 

“Oh, they're perfect and they match your ring!” Kate squealed. “That was so sweet of him.”

 

“Yeah, he's such a good kid,” Wanda agreed. “He's really sweet with my boys and I appreciate that. You certainly taught him well, YN.”

 

“I'm lucky to have him,” you agreed. You found yourself tilting your head and suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of sadness. “I wish my brother could be here.”

 

It was out of your mouth before you could stop it. Three sets of eyes turned to look at you with empathy. Wanda crossed the room to wrap you in a tight hug.

 

“I know,” she said over your shoulder. “It never really goes away, even though it gets easier. I miss my brother the most when big things are happening too. Not sharing them with him is sad.”

 

“But remember, you're not alone,” Nat added. 

 

“Nope, you're stuck with us,” Kate agreed, and she threw her arms around you from behind, adding to Wanda's hug. 

 

“And with Barnes, apparently,” Nat added again and everyone chuckled.

Chapter 5: The Starks and Their Parties

The four of you stepped out of the elevator and were hit by the lights and sounds of a party in full swing. It was every bit the lavish affair that was any Stark event. You stepped up to the railing to overlook the floor below. You found parties like this a conundrum; you enjoyed them, but you also got anxious with all the people. It was always a gamble which side would win once you arrived. You gazed over the crowd below, mind cataloguing who you saw and trying to determine where you would head, though your immediate thought was the bar, regardless.

 

At least this party, unlike so many charity events or other things designed to impress the public, was just for you guys, Avengers and the Avenger-adjacent, for lack of a better phrase. You would most likely know basically everyone here. The crowd would likely be smaller than normal as well and that was comforting. 

 

You watched the crowd below for a moment longer. Wanda had descended the stairs and was meeting with the rest of her family. You saw Kate greeting Peter and Ned with high fives and you grinned to yourself at the excited look on Peter's face and the shy grin Kate was giving him. Across the way, Tony and Thor were having a conversation (or more likely a pissing contest) flanked by onlookers enjoying the show. You saw Strange and Wong at the bar and then Peter was dragging Ned and Kate to talk to them, much to Stephen’s dismay, if his facial expression was to be believed.

 

Your eyes finally landed on the other end of the bar where Steve, Sam, and Bucky were chatting, and you watched Natasha joining them. You smiled as she approached and you watched Steve, clearly caught off guard, as she wrapped her hand around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. You could hear Sam whoop from where you stood and it made you laugh to watch Steve turn red. You saw Nat point towards you. Bucky's eyes followed as she pointed and then they landed on you. Your eyes met his and you smiled. You smiled wider when you saw his gaze roam over you and watched his expression go from excitement to astonishment and his jaw fell open just a little. You giggled and rolled your eyes as you moved toward the stairs and started to climb down to him. He was moving too, coming to meet you halfway, but he was moving faster than you, since, unlike you, no one had convinced him to wear heels. You watched as he took the steps two at a time and was right in front of you before you could get more than halfway down.

 

He stopped in front of you and gave you a show-stopping grin. He turned and held out his arm, which you took, smiling back at him. 

 

“You look so gorgeous, doll,” he whispered, letting his lip graze your ear. It tickled just a bit and you couldn't help but giggle. You turned to look at him and the look on his face said he knew exactly what he was doing. You thought about removing your arm from his, but it was helping in the wobbly heels so you just sighed and gave him a look. He smirked but stood up straighter.

 

You finally got off the stairs, much to your relief, and he turned to face you. His expression was much more serious.

 

“I mean it, YN. You look stunning,” he said again, hoping you heard the sincerity in his voice 

 

“Thanks, Buck,” you returned with a warm smile. “You look pretty damn good yourself, stud.”

 

Bucky wrapped you in his arms, pulling you close, and dipped his head to kiss you. Suddenly there were cheers and clapping from everyone around you, as the crowd must have noticed your kiss. You smiled against Bucky's lips and pulled away slowly, ducking to bury your head in his chest in embarrassment.

 

After that, there were people coming up left and right to say hello and congratulations and give hugs. You smiled and thanked them all and said a few words. You were grateful that it only lasted a few minutes before the guests seemed to settle back into the conversations and activities they had before. You grabbed Bucky's hand and made a break for the bar, feeling very much like you needed some lubrication in your veins to keep up all this social interaction.

 

You flagged down the bartender. “Gin martini, dirty, please,” you ordered.

 

“With extra olives,” Bucky added over your shoulder, giving you a grin. “And a bourbon, neat.”

 

You were given your drink and you took a sip as you turned back around to face the crowd again, just in time to be tackled around the legs by two sets of tiny arms. You yelped in surprise, trying not to spill your drink and wobbling under the impact in your heels. Bucky's arm shot around your waist to steady you. You looked down as two sets of eyes stared up at you with big grins. You smiled down at them and realized Bucky was taking your drink from your hand so you could reach down and wrap your arms around the twins in return for their hugs.

 

“Hi, boys! I'm so happy to see you!” You said with enthusiasm as you hugged them close. “Are you having fun?”

 

“Yeah! We're playing hide and seek!” Tommy answered with a grin. 

 

“Oh? With who?” You asked, looking around the room briefly. You thought you spotted the littlest Barton near a couch on the far end of the room and you tried not to chuckle.

 

“Nathaniel,” Billy replied. “But he said no powers.”

 

You nodded. “Right, no powers, because that would be cheating when not everybody has them. That wouldn't be fair.”

 

Tommy was pulling on Billy's arm. “Come on, let's go find him!”

 

The twins let go of you and turned to find their friend, but before they could go far, their father was in front of them.

 

“Boys, did you say good evening to Sergeant Barnes as well as your aunt?” Vision asked in a mildly chastising tone. The boys stopped and turned around, looking a little nervous.

 

“Hi, Sergeant Barnes,” Billy said, shyly.

 

“Mom said we should tell you congratulations,” Tommy added. 

 

Bucky looked uncomfortable, not knowing how to respond to that, much less to the children trying to speak to him. He cleared his throat, shifting at your side. “Uh, thanks, kids. I'm glad you could come.”

 

You smiled at him and patted his back, wanting him to know you appreciate his effort. He gave an awkward sideways grin. The boys laughed and then took off in search of their friend. Vision walked up to you both, tilting his head in greeting. 

 

“Sergeant Barnes, Agent YLN,” he greeted you. 

 

You couldn't help but laugh. “Vision, you've known us long enough, I think it's alright if you call us by our first names.”

 

He nodded. “Very well, James, YN,” he nodded at you individually as he said your names. “As you wish. Congratulations on your engagement.”

 

“Thanks,” Bucky replied. “We appreciate you coming to this thing. And your, uh, your boys are cute.”

 

You couldn't help but chuckle just a bit. Kids made him nervous, you knew that. He didn't really know how to interact with them and you knew he was afraid he scared them. He even struggled to interact with Peter sometimes. But you also knew that the particular kids here tonight wouldn't be the least bit put off by him. These were children whose parents and extended families were some variety of super human or superhero.

 

You chatted with Vision a bit before he returned to Wanda. Clint and Laura came to say their congratulations as well. Clint made sure to remind Bucky that he might be a member of the team, but you were basically a member of his family, and we all knew the lengths he would go to for his family. You just shrugged, knowing better than to argue, and truthfully, appreciating that he cared about you that much. Laura apologized for him, and said they would like to have you both over again soon. You asked where the rest of the kids were and Clint pointed over your shoulder. The two older Bartons were with Kate, Ned, and Peter and they all looked to be laughing and having a great time.

 

Time passed amicably as you talked with various people. At some point Tony made a speech and you were forced to relate your engagement story. You found yourself immensely grateful that Bucky had thought to come up with an alternate narrative. The hour got later, the dance floor became the center of attention, and the crowd thinned a bit, the parents deciding it was time to shuffle the children to their beds.

 

The WandaVision family said their goodbyes, heading back to their suburban home in New Jersey. Wanda hugged you tight and reminded you that you were overdue for family game night and that obviously Bucky was included too. The twins ran in for another crushing hug and this time you got down on their level so you could embrace them. Vision said goodnight and called you by your first names. 

 

The Barton clan was next, though they were staying in the tower for the night. You watched Clint trying to wrangle Nathaniel toward the stairs and chuckled. Kate swooped in, grabbing the boy and throwing him over her shoulder. Nathaniel squealed with laughter. She walked toward you, a squirming little boy in her arms.

 

“You gonna say goodnight to Auntie Kes?” Kate asked Nathaniel, setting him in front of you. The boy grinned at you and reached his arms up to you.

 

You grinned back scooping him up in a big hug. “Night, night, little hawk,” you said. “I'll see you tomorrow, okay?”

 

Nathaniel nodded at you and shot up the stairs behind his older siblings. Kate turned back to you and gave you a hug. 

 

“I promised him we would sleep in a blanket fort,” she said. “Natasha is letting all the kids stay in her apartment tonight, give Clint and Laura a break.”

 

You hugged her back and smiled at her when she stepped away. “Have fun with the blanket fort. I assume there will be Barton family breakfast in the morning. I'm looking forward to banana pancakes.” You made sure to be loud enough that Clint could hear as he passed you heading for the stairs. You turned and gave him a raised eyebrow. 

 

“Yeah, yeah, I heard. Pancakes,” Clint deadpanned, not looking back.

 

“Banana pancakes,” you corrected. 

 

“Come on, Bishop. You promised a blanket fort and Team Hawk keeps its promises,” Clint called back over his shoulder. 

 

Kate disappeared behind him. Laura stopped to give you a hug, then turned to Bucky.

 

“Don't let Clint scare you, not that I think you're scared of much,” she said with a friendly smile, and then she pulled him into a hug. “Welcome to the family.”

 

Bucky froze at the unexpected gesture, but quickly recovered and hugged her back. “Thanks. That's really nice of you. I'll try to be worthy of it,” he said with a bit of a sheepish grin.

 

Laura squeezed his shoulder and then followed the rest of her family up the stairs. You waved up at Cooper and Lila as they disappeared.

 

Then your hand was being guided toward the dance floor. Bucky spun you in a lazy circle and then pulled you back to him, swaying in time with the song playing. You smiled, resting your head against the side of his.

 

“This is one of my favorite songs,” you said quietly. 

 

“I know,” Bucky replied.

 

You pulled your head back so you could look at him, a confused look on your face. “How do you always remember all these things? I don't know that I've ever told you this is one of my favorite songs, just like the flowers.”

 

He gave you a sideways smile and chuckled. “You don't have to tell me, love. I just notice things like that. I know you love this song because you sing it to yourself all the time. I knew you loved the flowers because I lost track of the number of times I've seen you sitting around painting them.”

 

You just watched him feeling kind of overwhelmed with the idea that anyone cared enough about you to pay that close attention. He chuckled again and spun you around so your back was pressed to his chest, his arms wrapped around you. 

 

“Just like I know your favorite color is green and you love the smell of sage and you'll drink anything with gin in it,” he whispered as he continued to rock you both in time with the music. He dipped his head lower, sliding his lips against your neck, grazing his teeth against your pulse point. He heard your breath hitch and smiled against your skin.

 

You wiggled in his arms until you had enough room to turn back around. “All our friends are watching. We don't need to make them uncomfortable,” you said with a mildly chastising glare.

 

Bucky just chuckled with a slight shake of his head and put his lips to your ear. “I don’t think it's us who everyone is watching right now.”

 

You followed his gaze across the dance floor and saw right away why he said it. Steve and Natasha were dancing too, pressed awfully close together for polite company, and Steve's hand was wandering rather low against her back. You watched as he pressed a somewhat sloppy kiss to her neck and you had to clasp your hand over your mouth to keep from laughing. When he raised his head again you saw the distinct rosy color in his cheeks. 

 

“Is that- is Steve drunk??” You whispered to Bucky incredulously.

 

“I doubt it,” Bucky laughed quietly. “But he's certainly a little tipsy. Thor brought a couple bottles of whatever it is from Asgard and he's been sharing.”

 

You shuddered a bit. “That stuff is poison to us mere mortals. I hope he's not sharing with just anyone.”

 

The song you were swaying with morphed into the next track and you told Bucky you wanted to sit for a while. The heels were starting to get to you. He nodded and said he would be over shortly. You rolled your eyes as you watched him head over to Thor, probably to get himself something stronger than whiskey. 

 

You sauntered over to the nearest couch and plopped down. You immediately reached down to remove your shoes, and let out a sigh of relief, pulling your feet up to tuck under you and letting your head fall back against the couch.

 

“They're not even very tall, you know,” came a voice suddenly right by your side. 

 

You let out a startled gasp, your hand instinctively chuckling at your chest, and snapped your head to look at him. “Jeez, Stephen! Why do you always do that?” You gave him a dirty look. “If you give me a heart attack, you're just gonna have to fix me. Do you really wanna give yourself more work?”

 

Dr Stephen Strange gave you a smug chuckle. “You're not at risk for a heart related death,” he retorted. “Unless we're speaking metaphorically,” he added with a pointed look. 

 

You angled to face him as he sat next to you and leveled him with a raised brow and pointed stare of your own. “Be nice, Strange. I know you guys don't always agree-”

 

“Always?” Stephen echoed with sarcasm. 

 

“Alright, perhaps you never agree,” you corrected in a mildly exasperated tone. “But this is my choice.” Your expression softened as you saw the genuine concern in his eyes and you knew he was trying to control his tongue. You reached over to put a hand on Stephen's arm.

 

“I love him, Stephen,” you said firmly.

 

He gave a slight shake of his head and cleared his throat, his expression steeling. You knew he was making a real effort to be okay with this.

 

“I know you do. I've always known,” he said quietly. He felt that wave of sadness wash against him just a little, like it had been all night.

 

You watched him sip his drink trying to distract from the tumult of thoughts swirling through his mind. You knew he was probably wishing you couldn't see what he was thinking, but he also knew you could and didn't bother trying too hard to hide it.

 

He reached forward to grab an empty glass from the table in front of you and handed it to you. You accepted it, but looked back at him with confusion. He gave you a smile that could only be described as mischievous as he positioned his hand over the empty glass.

 

“What are you drinking?” He asked with a smirk.

 

You rolled your eyes, but smiled back. “Anything with-”

 

“Gin, yeah, I don't know why I even asked,” he finished your sentence with a shake of his head. You watched as the glass magically filled with liquid. A citrus garnish appeared in his hand and he let it softly fall into the glass as the finishing touch.

 

You smiled and sipped the drink as he watched you. “Perfect, as always,” you assured him. 

 

“Well, if that were true, we might not be here right now,” he said, eyes cast down to his own lap.

 

You felt that distant wave of something sad wash over you as you looked at him. You two probably would never have worked it out, regardless of external forces. You were both always holding a candle for someone else and it eventually drove you apart. But it didn't mean you didn't care about him. You just wished he could be as happy as you were 

 

“I'm sorry you weren't able to patch things up with Christine,” you said, chewing your lip. You meant it. You knew how much he loved her and it broke your heart that he wasn't able to fix that. “And I'm really sorry for the way everything went down with us,” you couldn't help but say.

 

As soon as the words left your mouth, you cringed, knowing the conversation would either die here quietly, or, depending on how much drinking he'd already done, you could end up in a screaming match. But you genuinely believed you were both in a place now where you could talk about it without the yelling, and hoped for that outcome.

 

He stared at you and swallowed a mouthful of his drink, obviously trying to decide what kind of response he wanted to give. You heard him sigh. 

 

“Don't be sorry about Christine. She's happy and that's all I wanted for her. What happened with you and I wasn't just your fault,” he replied. “We both made bad decisions. We were both still in love with other people, clearly.” He gave you a sideways grin.

 

You blushed a little, dropping your eyes to your lap. When you looked back up, he was staring at you with purpose. 

 

“I'm sorry too,” he breathed. “I'm sorry I couldn't find a way to let go of my past. I'm sorry that I couldn't recognize what I had right in front of me.” He swallowed hard and you recognized the look in his eyes as someone debating whether to say what they were thinking. He took another breath and decided to let it out, consequences be damned. “But what I'm sorry for, more than anything, is that he got his head out of his ass before I did.”

 

You stared at him, shocked. It felt like things were moving slowly around you. You didn't know how on earth to respond to that. Why would he bring this up now? Part of you was angry. That was unfair to dump on you, after all this time. He could have gotten off his stubborn ass and came to you at any point and he had chosen to stay silent.

 

But that's not what you were really feeling. 

 

Because regardless of what you knew to be true, that you were hopelessly in love with Bucky (after all, that was the very reason you and Stephen had imploded; he had called you out and forced you to admit it to yourself, causing you to turn right around and point out he still had feelings for his ex), you still felt joy at hearing him admit his heart has chosen you, in the end. You had wanted him to choose you all along and now, when it was far too late, he finally had.

 

And that realization made you sick, for a lot of different reasons. You felt the sudden urge to run and you felt bile rising in your throat. But you couldn't make a scene and you didn't want to think about what Bucky might do if he saw you running away from Stephen. He would most certainly break bones first and ask questions later, not that Stephen couldn't protect himself, but still. 

 

You cleared your throat, sat up straighter, and tried your best to give Stephen a level, composed look. “Stephen, I'm really sorry that things ended up like this between us. Truly. You're my friend and I care about you. That's never going to change. But you can't do that to me. Not now. Bucky-”

 

“I know, I know, I'm sorry. That was careless and stupid of me,” Stephen cut you off, apologizing. He couldn't handle hearing you say it again, that you loved someone else and you weren't choosing him.

 

“But I also remember what it was like when he was with her, what it did to you, how he made you feel. And you have to know, I'm never gonna just sit by and watch you go through that again. If he so much as blinks wrong, I'll be right there,” he promised.

 

You sighed and tried to offer him a smile, though it was decidedly sad. “I know you care, Stephen, so I'll take that in the spirit which it was given. But Bucky is never going to do that to me again. And I can't even really hold it against him that he did it the first time because we were decidedly not together and I had no right to expect anything else.” You tilted your head and offered a smirk, trying to alleviate some of the tension. “I really hope someday you figure out how to realize you love the girl BEFORE she chooses someone else, Strange,” you tried to kid.

 

He gave you back that same sad smile, raising his glass. “To happiness. I hope you and Barnes have lots of it,” he said. 

 

You clinked your glass with his. “I hope you do too.”

 

***

 

Bucky was watching you from the sidelines as you talked with Stephen. Thor was filling his glass with Asgardian liquor, which he knocked back, and held out for a refill. Thor obliged with a chuckle.

 

“You do not typically indulge in my spirits, Barnes, but since it's such a momentous occasion, I'm glad to see you loosening up a bit,” Thor commented with a hearty laugh. Bucky just nodded at him and gave a small polite smile, sipping the liquor.

 

Thor furrowed his brow and followed his gaze across the room. “Ah,” he said as his eyes found you and more importantly, who you were speaking with. He watched you gently put a hand on Stephen's arm and looked back to Bucky in time to see him grimace. Thor reached out and once again filled his glass, placing a hand on Bucky's shoulder with a sturdy pat.

 

“No cause for concern, my friend, I'm sure. Just a chat among old friends,” Thor encouraged. But he could see Bucky wasn't listening and the restless look in his eyes was building. So he decided to intervene. “Come on let's us go and say hello.”

 

Thor kept his hand on Bucky's shoulder and guided him toward the couch where you sat. 

 

“Wizard! Good to see you again!” He cheerfully greeted Strange. “And you, tiniest bird of prey, I've yet to congratulate you on your decision to marry the metal-armed warrior!”

 

You had never been so happy to see the slightly inebriated Asgardian and you practically jumped off the couch into his embrace when he held his arms wide. He squeezed you tight and you laughed. You could hear Strange mumbling he was a Master of the Mystic Arts, not a wizard, and you laughed again, feeling some of the earlier tension ease.

 

When Thor let go, Bucky was quick to replace him. You weren't surprised, had expected it, even, and you braced yourself for what you assumed would be a vice grip fueled by jealousy, even if he didn't want to admit it. Even as friends, he had been a little possessive when Stephen was around. You had tried to address it with him, but he brushed it off, said Stephen just seemed like he was always holding you at arms length and he thought you deserved better. You never could bring yourself to tell him he acted that way because he was threatened by Bucky and he had every right to be.

 

But the possessive hold you were expecting never came. Instead his grip felt entirely different; it felt desperate. You turned your head up to study his face and found something strange; he looked afraid. All at once you felt your heart clench and soar because this man clearly didn't know just how consumed you were by him if he thought one conversation with an ex could change anything at all.

 

You laid your head on his chest, still looking up at him. His attention snapped back to you from the conversation he was observing. You smiled warmly, biting your lip just a little. His mouth turned upward ever so slightly. You could see from the glassy look in his eyes that the spirits were doing their job and he felt even warmer than usual under your touch.

 

“Bucky…” you whispered so only he could hear. 

 

His grin widened and he leaned in closer to you. “Yeah, babe?”

 

“Maybe we should…” but your thought died on your lips as your eyes caught sight of the stairway and who was currently descending it. It was your turn to feel afraid 

 

Bucky knit his brow together in concern when you didn't finish your sentence. He watched you blanch, slightly, and followed your eyes to find out what was so worrisome. He felt his eyes go wide and heartbeat skip. Oh. 

 

Walking toward you both, all blonde hair and long legs and sly smile was your own personal nightmare. Yelena. Natasha’s sister and occasional asset to the team, but, most importantly, Bucky's ex. Not that he didn't have a few, but this was the only one that scared you. She was the only one that mattered, the only one that had nearly driven the two of you completely apart.

 

You stood up straight, squaring your shoulders and fixed an unbothered smile to your face as she approached. The phrase ‘turnabout is fair play’ was rattling around in your head and you felt immensely guilty for making Bucky watch you talk to Stephen, though you knew in the back of your mind that this was different, worse.

 

Yelena stopped in front of you and gave you both a wide smile. You knew somewhere in your rational mind that it was genuine and you tried not to read anything else into it. But logic was quickly giving way to insecurity, even as you fought.

 

“Zdorovo, moy dorogoy,” Yelena greeted Bucky. You didn't speak Russian but you recognized the way Bucky's jaw clenched as he attempted to maintain a calm demeanor. 

 

Yelena laughed and brought a hand up to clasp each of your shoulders “Ofiget! I'm kidding, look at you!” She laughed again. “You are getting married, congratulations! That's wonderful news.”

 

She beamed at you both, awaiting responses. Your eyes flicked to Bucky's face and he didn't look inclined to speak so you swallowed and did so. 

 

“Thank you, Yelena. It's nice to see you,” you forced out, knowing you needed to let go of the taut rope you were internally gripping before it snapped and caused damage.

 

You felt Bucky stir, as if the same thought occurred to him and you watched him morph into an easy smile. “Yes, we're glad you could make it. And thank you,” he replied in a calm, even tone. It reminded you of working undercover and you wondered what would show once he took the mask off.

 

“And to think, you kept insisting that she didn't mean anything to you, but I knew better,” she said with a raise of her eyebrows. “Anyway, I have to ask Natasha where she put the air mattress. Too many Barton kids and I can't just sleep on the floor like Kate, that's uncomfortable. Have a goodnight!” She gave another eyebrow raise, a more suggestive one this time, and then she was disappearing into the crowd. 

 

You didn't know where to go from that. Your mouth felt dry and everything was kind of blurry. You were vaguely aware of Bucky guiding you to sit back on the couch again.

 

“Hey, doll, look at me,” Bucky was calling, trying to get your attention.

 

It felt vaguely like there might be water in your ears, but you managed to turn your head and face him. He smiled at you, looking relieved. 

 

“Tell me what's going on in there,” he begged. You just stared, unable to form a cohesive thought yet.

 

Bucky's expression took on a hint of worry as he watched you in silence. “Sweetheart, I don't know exactly what you're thinking, but you gotta know, I don't give a damn about anybody but you.” He reached up to cup your face in his hands, trying to bring you back to him. His thumbs trailed over your cheeks and he searched your eyes for some sign you were hearing him.

 

You blinked a couple times, feeling his hands on your skin, letting it guide you back to the present and out of the hellish memory you had been catapulted back to. You never wanted to go back there again. Back to when he and Yelena were together and you had watched helplessly, heart crumbling, as he pulled further and further away from you. No, that was torture and you refused to ever go through it again.

 

You looked back at him, feeling yourself ground to his presence. You smiled. Bucky gave a low sigh in relief and smiled back.

 

“Hey, doll, I lost you there for a second,” he breathed. He continued to stroke your cheeks with his thumbs and you closed your eyes leaning into his touch.

 

“You'll never lose me, Buck,” you replied, almost inaudibly. The movement of his thumbs stopped and you opened your eyes to find him staring right into your soul. You felt heat creeping into your cheeks under such an intense gaze. 

 

“YN, I love you. I'll never stop trying to make you believe that,” he said with the most sincerity he could bring forth.

 

You felt your heart skip a beat. You suddenly didn't feel like sharing him anymore tonight.

 

“Maybe we should-” you attempted to finish your thought from earlier, but before you could, Bucky was pulling you to your feet and heading for the stairs.

Chapter 6: Jealousy

The instant the elevator doors closed, he was slamming you back against the wall, his leg nudging your knees apart. His mouth devoured yours, his tongue dominating your own, sucking the air from your lungs. You moaned deep and loud into his mouth and he swallowed the sound as he pressed his thigh up into your center.

 

“Oh, fuck, that feels good,” you whimpered. You reached your hands into his jacket to drag your nails up his back over his shirt and he growled.

 

He dropped his head to your exposed shoulder and sucked a deep red welt into your skin, marking you. You cried out against the pleasurable pain. 

 

“Everyone's gonna know you're mine, just mine,” he rasped, raking his teeth over your collarbone and down to your cleavage. He ran his tongue over the swell of your breasts and you ground down hard on his thigh. 

 

“Ahhhh, Buck,” you struggled as he continued to fuck you with his thigh. The elevator doors slid open on his floor, but he didn't try to move. Instead he reached behind him and slammed the emergency stop. He returned his attention to you, bouncing you on his leg. 

 

“We're not leaving until you come on my thigh,” he bit out. He reached down and fisted the fabric of your dress hiking it out of the way so he could push his leg up on your panties. You saw a wet spot starting to form on his thigh and you whimpered. He gave a dark chuckle. “You like that? Like leaving behind your own mark?”

 

But he was bouncing and rocking you on his thigh and you couldn't form sentences anymore. All you could feel was the pleasure building inside you and the heavy, warm presence of his body caging you into the wall, and mixed with the gin it was intoxicating. You could feel your release barreling towards you. You couldn't help but let out a moan. 

 

Bucky growled again bracing his left arm against the wall by your head. He fixed a burning stare on you and you couldn't look away.

 

“You're fucking beautiful like this, moaning my name, falling apart under my touch,” he said in a deep gravelly tone. He continued to rock you on his thigh and you were right on the edge. Your head dropped back to the wall and your eyes fluttered closed as you felt your release approaching. 

 

“Look at me, doll. Let me see how much I wreck you,” he commanded.

 

You willed yourself to look at him again. Once you locked eyes, he was bouncing you harder, holding your hips in place, and then you came hard against his leg, crying his name.

 

You saw his eyes darken as he watched you come. He pulled his leg away from you and brought a hand up to grip your jaw, possessively.

 

“You know, no matter what happens, the only one I want is you, right, love?” He said it with such urgency you felt tears prick the back of your eyes.

 

You nodded, furiously, blinking to bite back the tears. “I know, Buck, I know. I'm sorry.” You choked out.

 

His expression softened and his grip on your jaw relaxed. “Sweetheart, you don't have anything to be sorry for. We've both got pasts and scars. But I don't want you ever thinking I'm looking for a reason to go backward.”

 

You smiled up at him and couldn't stop it when a tear slid down your cheek. Bucky's face twisted into regret. He immediately pulled you into his arms stroking your hair.

 

“Hey, hey, shhh, baby, don't cry,” he pleaded. “I'm so sorry, love, I wasn't trying to make you cry.”

 

You realized several more tears were making their way down your face and you tried to will them to stop. You bit back a sob, but Bucky could tell and he squeezed tighter, trying to hold you together.

 

“Let's go inside, come on,” he pulled you along as he exited the elevator, taking the emergency hold off as you went.

 

This was definitely not what he had imagined when he thought of finally getting you away from the crowd. But then again he didn't imagine seeing Yelena tonight and he can't blame you for having a reaction to that. Anymore than you can blame him for reacting to Strange.

 

***

 

“Here, love,” Bucky said as he handed you a glass of water. He sat down next to you on the couch and watched you take a few sips from the glass. He slowly stroked your back. 

 

“I'm fine, Buck, I promise,” you said for the third time. You tried to give him a smile to add sincerity to your words.

 

“I might believe you if I couldn't see you trembling,” he replied pointedly.

 

You shook your head. “It's just cause it's cold in here. Lots of exposed skin,” you countered, gesturing to your bare shoulders. 

 

Bucky gave you a skeptical look, but stood up to shed his suit jacket and wrapped you in it before sitting back down again. You were surrounded by his scent and that did serve to soothe your nerves.

 

There was a beat of silence before you tried to speak again. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin our night,” you said, eyes on the jacket you were now wearing as your fingertips played with a lapel. “I just didn't expect to see her. I wasn't prepared.”

 

Bucky felt an ache in his chest watching you, knowing how that must have felt. Partially because he remembered all the same things you remembered from that time, but also because he knew what he had felt watching you with Strange. Bucky took a deep breath and reached out to clasp your free hand.

 

“You didn't ruin anything. I know that was hard for you,” he began. He knew everything beyond friendship between you was very new and you needed to talk about things like this from that new perspective. So he decided to press the issue.

 

“But I need you to tell me what you're thinking. Last time we talked about this, we were still pretending we were just friends,” he said with a half grin, trying to lighten the mood a little. 

 

You returned the expression with a huff. You knew he was right. 

 

“I don't know, Buck. At first it was just panic because the last time she was around, when you guys were together, I felt so… unneeded,” you settled on that word, unable to come up with anything better. “But then I just felt guilty because I really had no right to feel that way, much less be upset by it. We weren't together. She took my place by your side so easily and suddenly my best friend didn't need me anymore. It sucked. But you know that because we've talked about it before.”

 

“Yeah, but not like this. Things are not the same. We're not the same,” Bucky replied as he ran his thumb over your knuckles.

 

 

You watched them from the railing, staring down into the common kitchen below. You wanted to turn and run and forget what you were seeing, but you felt frozen, completely unable to make your body respond to what your mind was screaming. 

 

You watched helplessly as Yelena wrapped her legs around Bucky's waist from her perch on the island and pulled him flush against her body. He wrapped himself around her in return, head over her shoulder as she buried her face in his neck. 

 

You gulped in a breath and forced yourself to let go the railing, preparing to walk away.

 

Unfortunately, before you could take a step, Bucky saw you. His eyes locked with yours. You felt panic and shame wrack your body. You ran. 

 

Before you could make it to the elevator, you felt a hand close around your wrist and you snapped back around. Bucky was holding your arm, his eyes pleading, apologetic even, and you felt even worse.

 

“I'm sorry you saw that. We shouldn't have been out in the common area. That was stupid,” Bucky apologized. 

 

You shook your head furiously. “No, no. It's my fault. I should have made sure you knew I was there, I'm sorry. Please, just forget it,” you begged. You honestly just wanted to get away from him, to go lock yourself in your room and cry. Which he clearly saw on your face and he was not letting it go.

 

“Hey, what's really bothering you?” he asked, his voice all care and concern. When you didn't answer right away, he reached up to brush your hair out of your face, but pulled his hand back when he saw you flinch at his touch.

 

You blinked back tears that you knew were forming and tried to flip the conversation. “You left her to come after me, that wasn't a good move, Barnes,” you said with a small smile. 

 

He frowned, knitting his eyebrows together. “You looked upset. I wanted to check on you.”

 

You took a step backwards and crossed your arms over your chest. “And now she's gonna be upset. Bucky, you know she already hates that we're so close. When you do this you make it worse.”

 

“Do what? Check on my friend?” He also leaned back and crossed his arms. “And she doesn't hate that we're close, YN. She just doesn't understand our relationship so she gets jealous sometimes. She'll get used to it.”

 

You could feel the shift in the air and braced yourself for the fight you knew was looming. It felt like all you did now was fight, ever since he and Yelena got together. It was draining. 

 

“She shouldn't have to get used to it, Buck. She wants to be the most important woman in your life and that's completely reasonable. You can't expect our dynamic to stay the same,” you pointed out. 

 

“She is most important. She knows that. You and I are friends. What has to change? What are you saying?”

 

You rolled your eyes and turned back for the elevator again. “Just forget it. I'm sorry I interrupted. Just let it go.”

 

Bucky turned and stood between you and the elevator doors, making himself a wall. “No, don't do that again. Every time I try to talk to you lately you walk away. Tell me what's really going on,” He demanded, raising his voice just a touch.

 

You stepped toward him, feeling defensive. “Because it's not your job to worry about me, Barnes. You have someone else to worry about, so just leave me be!” You spit the words back at him, your voice shaking.

 

You watched as Bucky's jaw dropped and he just stared at you. He looked so genuinely hurt that you had to fight the urge to burst into tears and throw yourself into his arms. When he didn't say anything and didn't move, you rolled your eyes, let out an exasperated huff, and turned, deciding to just take the stairs.

 

All because you were in love with him and you couldn't bring yourself to admit it. Now it was too late. Now you had to find a way to let him go. And you knew it wasn't the mature way to deal with it, but the only way you could currently think to do that was pushing him away.

 

 

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, the memories flooding your senses. Only this time, you could tell him what you hadn't told him then. Suddenly, you realized, you could be honest with him and it might actually feel good after all this time.

 

“I'm sure you've figured it out by now, but when you and Yelena got together, it broke my heart,” you confessed. “I mean, I don't know if I had really admitted to myself just how much I was in love with you until I was watching you fall in love with somebody else.”

 

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, I figured as much, at this point. Even then, I figured you were a bit jealous,” he tilted his head and put on a small, cocky grin. “It was kinda cute, to be honest.”

 

You furrowed your brow at him, straightening and shifting so your side was against the back of the couch and you could face him. “It wasn't jealousy, Bucky, I was heartbroken. I was just trying to find a way to let you go, let you be happy.”

 

Bucky raised an eyebrow, giving you a skeptical look. You rolled your eyes and set the water down on the coffee table, tucking your legs up under you. 

 

“Fine, I was jealous as hell. I wished I could push her off the helipad. Every time I saw you together I wanted to burn the room down. It took everything in my power not to jump into your arms every time I got you alone,” you confessed with a huff. “ Is that what you wanted to hear?”

 

Bucky let out a small laugh and reached up to tuck a wayward stand of hair behind your ear. “Like I said; it's kinda cute.”

 

You tried to give him an annoyed look, but you couldn't help but smile a little when he looked at you that way. But you knew you shouldn't just let this conversation go. You both had things you needed to say. 

 

“Except, jealous or not, I just wanted you to be happy so I pulled away. I was determined to get over you,” you continued. “So, I finally said yes when Stephen asked me if I wanted to get coffee.”

 

Bucky shifted and turned to face you too. “Oh, I remember,” Bucky ran his hand through his hair, looking a little nervous. “Then it was my turn to be jealous.”

 

You felt your eyebrows go to your forehead. This was news to you. You knew he and Stephen didn't get along. Everyone knew. That was no secret. You knew he didn't love the two of you together. You had always figured it was because of the aforementioned lack of camaraderie between them. Nobody liked when their friend dated someone they didn't like.

 

You tilted your head, giving him a confused look. “You were jealous of Stephen? That was long before you knew you had feelings for me. And you were still with Yelena at the time.”

 

Bucky looked kind of sheepish and continued to run his hand through his hair. “Yeah, well, at the time, I probably would have denied it- did deny it- but I can confidently tell you, now, that I was also jealous as hell.” He looked like he was feeling a bit ashamed, and his voice got quieter. “Yelena knew. I told her she was wrong, but we both knew I was just in denial. She eventually said she couldn't keep going in circles about it and told me I had to decide which one of you was more important to me.”

 

Bucky locked eyes with you, his gaze soft but serious. You felt your heart skip a beat under his intense gaze.

 

“I chose you,” Bucky confessed. He gave you a lopsided grin and you thought your heart might stop.

 

You didn't even know what to say. You didn't know that's how things had ended between them. That's not what he had told you. Which at this point made sense, considering.

 

“Buck, why didn't you tell me that's how things ended? You told me you just decided you weren't working. I… I didn't know I literally came between you,” you said quietly. You felt a pit in your stomach. That was never what you had wanted. It's exactly why you had tried to push him away 

 

Bucky reached out and gently placed a hand on your leg, stroking with his thumb. “You didn't, love. It wasn't your fault. I wasn't being honest with myself or with her. It never would have worked out. Don't dwell on it,” Bucky soothed.

 

“I still feel awful. God, she must absolutely hate me. I wouldn't blame her. It would be weird if she didn't,” you said, putting your head in your hands.

 

“No, love, she doesn't. She wasn't really even surprised. And you saw her tonight. She's happy for us. Besides, you remember what we were like together.” Bucky was pulling your hands away from your face.

 

You rolled your eyes and before you could stop yourself, the words were out of your mouth. “Yeah, I remember, you were either fighting or fucking, no in-between.” Your eyes got wide and you grimaced, feeling like that might have been too indelicate.

 

Bucky just laughed, making you relax a little. He nodded in agreement.

 

“Yeah, pretty much,” he agreed. “That was fine for a while, but it was also exhausting. Eventually, we would have gotten sick of it regardless. Or at least I would have. Yelena seems to thrive on chaos.”

 

You cocked your head, offering a sly grin. “ You certainly seemed to thrive on it at the time yourself,” you pointed out. 

 

Bucky narrowed his eyes, but gave you a cocky grin in return. “Hey, now, you and Strange were no better, so glass houses and stones and all that.”

 

You cast your eyes down for a moment. “Yeah, except Stephen had every right to feel threatened by you and I told him as much,” you confessed again. There was going to be a lot of that tonight, apparently.

 

Bucky was just watching you. You couldn't really tell from his expression what he was thinking. But he didn't look upset. For a moment you were flooded with a memory.

 

 

“Do we really have to do this, again?” You groaned. You were pulling on a robe and looking for your slippers that got kicked under the bed somewhere. 

 

Stephen was getting out of his side of the bed, pulling on some sweatpants. He stood and walked over to you, handing you your missing slipper. You mumbled a thank you. 

 

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything,” Stephen replied with an apologetic look. 

 

You sighed and sat back on the bed, tugging your robe tighter around you and shivering a little. “Why is it always so damn cold here?” You complained. 

 

Stephen chuckled, sitting next to you and pulling you tight against him, wrapping his arms around you. “Well, you know, the Himalayas, pretty high up, thousand year old building, things like that,” he replied cheekily.

 

You gave him a dirty look. “Alright, smartass,” you snarked in return. Stephen turned and started to massage your shoulders. You had your arms firmly hugged around yourself, like you were trying to hold yourself together. 

 

“I'm sorry it happened again,” you quietly apologized. “You know I'm not doing it on purpose. But I'm sorry you have to deal with it, just the same.”

 

You heard him take a deep breath, his hands continuing to work at your shoulders before he allowed them to slide down and around your waist, pulling your back to his chest. 

 

“I know it's not on purpose, my dear,” he said as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “It was unfair of me to even bring it up. It's just…” he paused, trying to decide if he should even say anything else.

 

You turned to look at him. “Just what, Stephen? Just say what you're thinking,” you encouraged.

 

“It's just hard to hear you calling another man's name when you're in my bed, in my arms, naked. Even if you are asleep,” Stephen said. “I'm not blaming you, but I would be lying if I said it didn't get to me sometimes.”

 

You nodded in understanding. “I get it, and you have every right to feel hurt by it. Sometimes I wonder if I should have just kept it to myself, how I feel about him. I wanted to be honest with you, but I wonder if all I did was hurt you.”

 

“No, I'm glad you were honest. And I know you need time to get him out of your system. It's not going to happen overnight. But I'll be honest too; I can't promise it's not going to upset me,” Stephen replied. 

 

“That's more than fair,” you replied. You gave him a warm smile. “But just remember,” you whispered against his ear, trailing kisses down his jaw. “It's your name I'm screaming when I'm awake.”

 

 

“I told him right from the beginning that I had feelings for you,” you said, carefully watching Bucky's face for a reaction. “I was honest. I told him I was determined to move on, that you were happy with someone else, and that was all I could offer. He said he understood, that he was still trying to let go of his past too, and we could just see where things took us.”

 

Bucky nodded. “I know I wasn't exactly around all that much, but it seemed like he wasn't as okay with it as he claimed,” he stated.

 

You gave a humorless chuckle. “Yeah, well, would you be okay with it if I called you by someone else's name?”

 

Bucky stiffened, a look of shock on his face. “You- you called him by my name? As in, when you were…”

 

You swallowed and nodded. You watched as the surprise on his face slowly melted into a self satisfied grin. Your own expression became disbelief.

 

“James Buchanan Barnes, that is not something to be proud of,” you chastised. “Imagine how you would feel, the bruise on your ego.”

 

His smug grin remained. “Yeah, but it wasn't, it was him. I'm sorry, babe, but you know how I feel about him. Did you expect me to weep for the guy?”

 

“No, but I expected maybe a little sympathy. Considering it was your fault,” you accused, but you couldn't help but smile just a little. 

 

Bucky's cocky grin took on a darker shade. His hand on your leg slid upward, wrapping around your waist, while his other one slid around your body to rest between your shoulder blades. He gently pulled your body forward as he leaned in to meet you halfway, capturing your mouth in a heated kiss. When he released you, you were gasping for air, your hands fisted in his shirt. The suit jacket around your shoulders slid off and hit the floor.

 

“So when his hands were on you, touching your skin,” he began as he eased you back to lay down on the couch with a palm on the bare skin of your chest. “You were imagining my hands.”

 

He kept his flesh palm pressed to your bare chest as his metal one slipped inside the slit at your left thigh. You let out a sigh as you felt his hand sliding up your inner thigh to rest against your core, stroking with agonizing gentleness. You whimpered, locking eyes with him. He gave you a devastatingly handsome grin and you felt your pulse jump.

 

He was hovering over you now, left foot on the floor, right knee on the couch beside your leg. The hand on your chest moved to your shoulder, pushing the fabric down as far it could go, exposing more of your skin and half your bra. You shuddered as his palm continued to skim over your flesh, eventually diving into your bra to cup your breast. You moaned.

 

“When he touched you like this,” he emphasized his words with a strong squeeze to your panty-clad pussy, drawing a cry from you. “Were you closing your eyes and picturing me, wishing it was me making you feel good?”

 

You whined as he pulled his hands away from you, making you open your eyes. You looked up to see him tossing his tie on the floor and working at the buttons on his shirt. You sat up a little with the intention of ridding yourself of your dress, but he reached out and stopped you. 

 

“Lay back down, doll,” he instructed, easing you back with his hand on your chest again. “Let me have my fun,” he whispered in your ear with a wicked grin. He ran his tongue from your ear, along your jaw before pulling your lips into his own again, sucking on your bottom one. You moaned when he bit down and he growled. 

 

You watched as he shed his shirt and got off the couch for a moment to lose the rest of his clothing. He settled back on the couch in the same place, kneeling above you. His hands went to the hem of your gown and began hiking the fabric upwards stopping when it rested above your hips. He dipped his head to kiss you, sliding his tongue across yours, and you felt his hands sliding your panties down. You lifted your hips to help and they were quickly discarded somewhere near his tie.

 

His hands were on you again, left one grabbing your thigh pushing you further open to him, right one sliding inside you. You let out a cry of his name as his fingers stroked your walls, slow and dragging and torturous. He curled them just right and your back arched well off the couch.

 

Bucky gave a dark chuckle as he watched you react to his every touch and move. His fingers stroked that spongy spot and you all but screamed his name. He groaned, biting hard on his lower lip to keep from coming all over your dress right then.

 

“Damn, doll, if you moaned my name this much when you were with him, maybe I do feel a little bad for him,” he bit out through gritted teeth. “Did you? Were you thinking of riding my fingers while he was knuckles-deep inside you?”

 

You just moaned, overwhelmed by the way he was working you with his hand.

 

“Answer me, baby, I wanna hear you say it,” he coaxed. 

 

“Y-yes, Buck, yes I was thinking of you, wishing it was you on top of me,” you sputtered as he continued to fuck you with his hand. You were getting so close, but the next thing you knew, he was pulling his fingers out and you whined at the emptiness. 

 

His left hand under your thigh dragged you towards him and his right hand slipped under your other thigh, holding you open and lifting your ass off the couch. He pulled you toward him again until he had you lined up with his cock. He watched your face as he pushed into you, deep and slow, grinning as he saw your lips part and eyes squeeze shut in pleasure. He buried himself inside you to the hilt and you moaned.

 

“I hadn't even touched you yet, and you were already mine,” Bucky crowed, staring down at you, that same self satisfied grin plastered to his face.

 

You stared back at him, biting your lip. “I've always been yours, Bucky.”

 

You could barely see the blue of his eyes, his pupils blown so wide. His chest was heaving. You braced yourself for what you were sure would be a pounding. His smile grew wider, more wild. 

 

“Then it's a good thing I'm yours too, baby,” he rasped, voice strained, as he pulled out slowly just to snap his hips back against you.

 

You moaned, writhing beneath him, as he did indeed fuck you with abandon, holding you in place, your ass resting on his thigh. You were completely at his mercy from this angle, unable to reach anything but his forearms, with no leverage to contribute to his thrusts. You held on to his arms and let him split you in half over and over again, moans and cries of his name spilling from your lips like a mantra. Only a few moments later you were pushed past the edge, into your climax, screaming his name.

 

You heard him let out a dark chuckle above you and opened your eyes to see him grinning triumphantly. But you didn't have even a second to think about it, much less reply, before he was slipping his hands around your back.

 

Still inside you, he lifted you off the couch and pressed you against his body, making sure your knees were firmly against the cushion before giving you some of your weight back, and then he was immediately thrusting up into you once again.

 

You whimpered, feeling very sensitive, the aftershocks of your first orgasm still coursing through your body. Bucky shushed you gently, his face buried in your hair.

 

“It's okay, doll, you can give me one more, I know you can,” Bucky soothed, his hands on your back tracing your spine. He pulled his head back to look at your face, but didn't pause in his relentless thrusting.

 

You let out a moan as he hit that spot inside you that had your legs shaking. You opened your eyes to see him watching your face, still looking pleased with himself, but there was a touch of concern, wanting to make sure you were still okay.

 

You gave him a reassuring smile, and ran your nails down his back, dragging hard, pulling a deep, guttural moan from his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut and his pace faltered for only a moment. It was your turn for a self satisfied smirk.

 

“Come on, Soldier. Gimme all you got,” you encouraged. Your hands reached his ass and you grabbed on roughly, squeezing and kneading, digging your nails into his flesh. He threw his head back and cried out, your name on his lips, and you felt a thrill jolt through your own body at the sight.

 

Then his hands were grabbing your ass, hard, forcefully. He yanked you off your knees, fully in his control again, slamming you tight to his own body. All of his weight seemed to shift to his left leg, which was planted on the floor, as he straightened, redistributed his weight and yours between his knee that was digging into the cushion and his leg, like an anchor, on the floor. You were held suspended, still being brutally impaled by his cock, and you wrapped your legs around his trying to hold on.

 

Over and over he slammed upwards into you, driving moans and cries and strings of incoherent nonsense from your lips. Your vision was starting to blur, your breath coming in desperate, shallow gasps.

 

“B-Bucky, I-I'm,” you tried to warn him of your impending orgasm but words failed you. His next thrust had you crashing through that wave and for a moment you thought you blacked out.

 

You came to just in time to hear him cry out as his own release wracked his whole body. You felt his hot spend inside you, his cock twitching and spasming as he came. You both gasped for air, chests heaving.

 

Several moments passed before he finally sat back against the couch, setting you down in his lap. But not letting you go just yet. You twined your arms around his neck.

 

“If I had known telling you about my sex life with Strange would get you to fuck me like that, I definitely would have said something sooner,” you said with a wide grin as you played with the hair at the back of his neck.

 

Bucky laughed, giving you a half grin of his own. “If I had known hearing about it would make me wanna fuck you like that, I would have asked.”

 

You leaned down to give him a sweet, slow kiss. You felt him smile against your lips as you pulled away.

 

“Alright, Soldier, I need a shower,” you declared, pushing against his shoulders with an aim to get up. But Bucky wouldn't budge, keeping his grip firm around you. You raised an eyebrow in question. He just smiled, slipping his hands under your thighs once again, as he stood, forcing you to wrap your legs around him. “Are you ever gonna let me walk anywhere on my own two feet again?” You laughed as he carried both of you into the bathroom.

 

“Not if I can help it,” he replied with a wink. He sat you down on the vanity and finally pulled out of you, stepping away to start the shower. 

 

You rolled your eyes, hopping off the counter. You reached for the zipper at the back of your dress, only to have your hands brushed away as Bucky pulled the zipper down for you. The fabric fell to the floor, leaving you in just your strapless bra. Bucky brushed your hair over your shoulder, his fingers dancing down your skin. He ran them over the lace of your bra and you shuddered as he undid the clasp and it clattered to the ground. His arms snaked around you, running over your stomach and he pulled you back against him, laying kisses against your shoulder. You turned to look at him over your shoulder and he pulled you into a heated kiss.

 

When he released your lips, you turned and stepped past him into the shower. You let out a contented sigh as you stepped under the hot water and let it relax your muscles, streaming over your skin.

 

For a moment, Bucky just watched as the water rained down on you, over the soft curves of your body. He let himself be overwhelmed with how lucky he felt to have you, to be the person here with you like this.

 

You caught him staring and gave a sultry smirk as you reached for his soap. You lathered it in your hands and then slowly dragged them up and down your body. Bucky followed your movements as you worked the suds across your hips, stomach, and finally up and over your breasts. You saw him absently lick his lips as he watched your hands. You gave him a grin. 

 

“You just gonna stare, Soldier, or you gonna join me?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow. 

 

His eyes never left yours as he stepped into the shower behind you. He pressed his front to your back and you could feel his erection pressing into your ass. His hands were on you, sliding around your body, up your torso, until he was kneading a breast in each one. He pinched and rolled your soapy nipples, pulling a moan from you. You felt his cock twitch against your backside. His left hand slid back down your body, between your legs.

 

You gasped when his metal fingers slid between your folds and drew lazy circles on your clit. Your hands slapped against the tile to brace yourself when he abandoned your clit and inserted three of his fingers all at once, a sharp cry fleeing your lips.

 

Bucky's lips were at your ear, grazing it as he spoke. “I don't know how many times I've stood here, thoughts of you in my head, as I fucked my fist.” He ran the tip of his tongue over the shell of your ear, grinning when you whined, grinding down on his hand. You bent forward a little to push back against him, against his stiff cock and grinned yourself when he groaned. 

 

“Don't have to use your fist tonight, Soldier. You've got the real thing,” you teased. You turned your head over your shoulder, biting your lip as you looked at him.

 

Bucky growled, his hand leaving your core. He grabbed your hips, roughly, pulling you backwards, while his other hand was on your back, encouraging you to bend further forward, your hands still flat on the tile wall. You felt his knee between your legs, nudging them apart. His hands were back on your hips, angling them where he wanted. He reached down, closing his fist around his cock, pumping a few times as he notched himself at your entrance. You whined, wiggling your ass in anticipation, and you heard him give a low, breathy laugh. He slowly pushed his hips forward, burying his shaft inside of you, the sensation pulling a moaning from your throat and making your toes curl into the tile.

 

“This is certainly better than anything I ever imagined,” he whispered against your skin, laying kisses against your back. He began to draw out, then thrust back inside you, setting a slow, tender pace. He set kisses along your spine as his fingertips kneaded at your hips, traveling upward, until he had his arms fully wrapped around your torso, bending over himself so your body's were pressed flush together. You could feel his cheek resting against your shoulder blade. You turned your head over your shoulder, smiling at him, and reached back to stroke his hair as he continued to fuck you deep and slow.

 

No, not fuck, he was making love to you. And it was beautiful and overwhelming, just how much love he had for you. You felt tears brimming your eyes again, even as he continued to push you toward your climax.

 

You heard him let out a moan against your shoulder and his pace quickened, telling you he was also getting close. You felt a hand leave your body and heard it smack hard against the tile, trying to brace himself as he chased his impending release. Moans were falling from your own lips as he continuously hit your spot and then that wave was crashing over you and you vaguely heard yourself telling him that you loved him as you were swept away. He continued to thrust into you, feeling you squeeze and flutter around him and then he was groaning as his own release spilled into you.

 

For a moment you stayed like that, him pressed against you, his face buried in your shoulder, breathing you in, you slowly running your hand through his hair. He eventually felt your legs start to shake and you felt him smile against your skin. He stood up, pulling away from and out of you and you involuntarily whined, ever so slightly, at the loss of contact. You heard him chuckle as he encouraged you to turn back around to face him. 

 

“Not that I wouldn't want to hold you like that forever, but I could tell you were getting tired, love,” he said with a soft warm smile.

 

“It's just because of those damn heels,” you complained, threading your arms around him.

 

He was wrapping you in his arms once more and pulling you against him, laying soft kisses to your face, your forehead, your jaw, and eventually pulling you into a slow, deep kiss. You sighed into his mouth as your lips parted. You felt him grin. You grinned back and he tucked you under his chin, just holding you as the water rained down on both of you, content to stay in this moment.

 

Unfortunately, you could feel your limbs getting tired and heavy. “Buck,” you whispered. 

 

“Yeah, babe?”

 

“I'm tired,” you said, through a yawn. “Time for bed.”

 

Bucky chuckled, lifting his head to look at you with a slightly smug grin. “What? That's all ya got? Can't go a few more rounds?” He gave you a lopsided grin, wiggling his eyebrows.

 

You rolled your eyes, but smiled, as you pushed off him and shut off the water. “No, Soldier, I can't. Unlike you, I don't have a serum pumping up my labido. I require rest,” you said as you stepped out of the shower and wrapped yourself in a towel.

 

Bucky followed, grabbing his own towel, both of you heading for his bedroom. He let you get about halfway there before he scooped you into his arms, carrying you the rest of the way and gently tossing you on to the bed. 

 

“Bucky…” you whined when he crawled on top of you, softly kissing your neck.

 

He picked his head up to look at you. “Yes, love?” He gave you a devilish grin, the kind that scrambled your brain. He grinned wider at that look on your face, and leaned down to trail kisses along your jaw. 

 

You rolled your eyes. “Fine, go ahead and fuck me ‘til I pass out, but then you have to explain to Bruce why I ended up in the medwing,” you countered as his hand started traveling up your thigh.

 

He paused, facing you again. He winked, you furrowed your eyebrows, confused, then you felt the towel being torn away from your body. You yelped in surprise. You watched him throw the tattered remains over the side of the bed.

 

“Doesn't bother me any, doll, it's Bruce that gets uncomfortable,” he said as he dipped his head to scatter kisses across your belly. “Besides, it wouldn't be the first time.”

 

You frowned, confused. “I feel like you would have told me if you put some poor girl in the ER with your super soldier penis, Barnes. You would have been too proud not to,” you said, skeptically. 

 

Bucky laughed, moving up your body to rest his chin on your chest, looking at you with amusement and maybe a little guilt. “You're right, I would have,” he admitted. “But, no, not me. Steve and Natasha, however…” he trailed off watching as your eyes went wide.

 

You shook your head and laughed. “Poor Nat,” you lamented. “That must have been embarrassing. If it's all the same to you, I would prefer not to add on to this reputation that super soldiers fuck their girlfriends to death.”

 

“Well you can't, because you're my fiance,” Bucky said, yelping as you smacked his shoulder. 

 

“And you're a jackass, Sergeant Barnes,” you groaned. 

 

“Yes I am,” he confirmed, rolling to your side and pulling you into his arms. He reached down and pulled the covers up over both of you. “Maybe another night we'll see just how many times I can make you come before you pass out,” he whispered as he stroked your hip.

 

You wanted to reply, but sleep overtook you before you had the chance.

Chapter 7: Barton Family Breakfast

You woke slowly to the rhythmic rise and fall of Bucky's chest. You were sprawled across it, your right leg hooked over his left thigh. You felt his flesh hand trailing up and down from your shoulder to your hand, his metal arm hooked around you, hand resting just below your ribcage.

 

“How’d ya sleep, doll?” He asked, voice still rough and quiet, telling you he just woke up too. 

 

You stretched, wrapping tighter around him for a moment. “Pretty good, although, I am now remembering,” you replied, letting go of him and rolling back so that you were resting on top of his left arm, “that vibranium does not make a good pillow.” You emphasize your point by letting your head fall back against his shoulder cap with a muted thunk.

 

You turned to look at him with a little smile and he raised his eyebrows questioningly. “Remembering? You spend a lot of time napping on Steve's shield?” His lips curled into a teasing grin.

 

You shrugged teasingly yourself, rolling again, off his arm, trying to reach your phone off the nightstand. “Well, ya know, back when Steve and I were hooking up, he had a thing for it, me with the shield- hey!” You yelped when you were yanked backwards, forcefully, and he rolled you underneath him, his knees on either side of your hips. 

 

You stared up into Bucky's eyes, narrowed and hard, his jaw ticking. Your lips pursed and you bit your cheek trying not to laugh.

 

“Very funny, doll,” Bucky all but growled as he stared you down.

 

You batted your eyelashes, giving an innocent look. “What? He never told you?” You let out a quiet snicker, unable to help yourself when his eyes narrowed further. 

 

“Keep teasing, see what happens,” he warned, leaning down to nip at the corner of your jaw. You let out a surprised shriek when his fingers landed on the side of your ribs and he tickled you, causing you to squirm. 

 

“Okay, okay,” you whined, trying to bite back the giggles. “I'm joking, of course, Steve and I weren't hooking up,” you relented. Bucky gave a satisfied smirk and leaned down to place a kiss on your jaw this time. You grinned, your lips near his ear. 

 

“It was just one time,” you whispered. 

 

He snapped his head up, searching your face, his expression borderline terror for only a moment before he registered the completely wicked look on your face.

 

His eyes burned. “You little-” Immediately, both his hands were on you tickling harshly, causing you to cackle and eventually struggle for breath, but he didn't let up. He dropped his face to your neck, ghosting his beard along your skin, adding more tickling sensations. He continued running his facial hair over your exposed body, across your breasts and especially your nipples. Now that was really ticklish and you writhed underneath him, tears squeezing from your eyes at all the sensations.

 

“B-bucky! Stop…” you begged in a breathy voice, starting to feel lightheaded. His assault didn't stop, but it slowed, using only his flesh hand now, ticking only lightly.

 

“Not until I'm sure you've learned your lesson, doll,” he replied and you could hear the grin in his voice. He continued to ghost his facial hair over your bare breasts and up your throat. You tried to wiggle free, but he draped the vibranium arm across your torso and held you in place. His flesh hand, much to your relief, stopped tickling. Instead, the strokes of his fingertips across your skin became stronger, rougher, more precise as he continued to wrake his beard over your chest, up your neck, across your jaw. Soon he was pulling soft breathy moans from your lips. When his fingertips ran down to trace the apex of your thighs, your hips bucked.

 

“You done teasin’ me, love?” Bucky asked, his pupils dilating as he watched you keen at his touch. You let out a sigh when his lips finally connected with the skin just below the corner of your jaw and you felt him grin. 

 

“What was that, darlin’? You want me to keep goin’?” He paused to bite and suck a mark where your shoulders and neck meet and you loudly moaned his name. He gave a dark chuckle, lifting his head to look you in the eyes. “Or would you rather keep telling me lies?”

 

Before you could reply, his lips were on you in a hot, open mouthed kiss. His tongue dominated yours as he swept it through your mouth and you arched up, your body seeking his, but he was too far away. He pulled back and you tried to follow him, but his arm kept you pinned down. 

 

Bucky hovered above you, an expectant look on his face, waiting for you to reply to his questions. 

 

You bit your lip, looking at him through hooded eyes. “I've been teasing you for two years, Buck, I'm not gonna stop now. Do you really want me to?”

 

He dropped his chin, shaking his head with a laugh. “No, I suppose it's part of why I fell in love with you.” He leaned forward, bracing a hand on each side of your head, giving you a sly grin. “Besides. There's absolutely no way you've slept with Steve. He woulda told me.”

 

You laughed, nodding, reaching your hands up to run your fingertips over his chest. “I mean, technically, I've slept with Steve dozens of times; on crappy hotel beds in the middle of nowhere, in safehouses- why do they never have more than one bed?-, on the couch on movie nights, one time a shared sleeping bag in the Alps- that's a long story-, hey! Okay, okay,” you surrendered as Bucky’s eyes narrowed a bit and he jabbed a finger at your side again. You gave a little pout and his hand stilled. “Besides, if we had started hooking up, we probably wouldn't have stopped. Steve Rogers was not built for one-night stands. Frankly, neither am I. You, on the other hand, Sergeant Barnes,” you said, tapping him on the nose. “Steve has told lots of stories about your exploits. You basically had a revolving door.”

 

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Steve exaggerates.”

 

You raised your eyebrows skeptically. “It's not like Captain America to lie. I think maybe you just don't want to admit it to the girl who's currently naked underneath you.”

 

Bucky's eyes darkened at the reminder, his mouth lifting in a half grin and he shrugged. “Alright, maybe so,” he admitted, tilting his head just a little as he licked his lips. “But now, I'm a one gal kinda guy.”

 

You gave him a genuine smile. He leaned down and kissed you again, sweet and reverent. You could feel how much he meant what he just said. You felt the metal arm on your torso shift, his hand hooking around your waist, and he used the leverage to nudge you until you flipped over on your stomach, laying face down flat on the mattress. 

 

Bucky leaned his lips down to your left ear as you felt his arms snake under your hips. “Ass up, keep your face on the pillow, baby,” he whispered. He guided your backside off the bed and you complied.

 

He positioned your knees further apart, slowly running his hands up your thighs and over the curve of your ass. He grabbed your cheeks, kneading hard and you knew you would have marks there later. You groaned into the pillow. 

 

“You know what I wanna do today?” Bucky said as he ran his fingers through your folds, feeling them glide through your wetness. A needy whimper left your throat. You fisted the sheets, pressing your ass back toward him in encouragement. 

 

But he didn't need it. His cock already in hand, he ran the head through your slick several times, listening to the whines and groans you made in response, before pushing in. You whined at the stretch, your hands twisting into the sheets, and your hips involuntarily tried to pull away, but he held you firmly in place.

 

Bucky paused, his face scrunching for a moment, as he realized he should have gotten you ready first. “You alright?” He asked, looking down at your face. He could see the strain you were trying to hide.

 

You lifted your head a bit to look back at him with a wry smile. “Just give me a minute, babe, you forgot you're a super soldier.”

 

Bucky hummed apologetically. “I'm sorry, love.” He leaned over you, rubbing your back, laying gentle kisses, reaching his hands down to caress your thighs and ass again. “I guess I just lose my mind a little when your naked ass is staring me in the face,” he chuckled.

 

You groaned when he reached around to rub circles on your clit with his thumb and he felt you slowly start to relax around him. He continued to drop kisses across your back and slowly sunk into you until he bottomed out, with a groan. He paused again, panting as he restrained himself. You glanced over your shoulder again and saw him squeezing the base of his cock and his eyes shut and it made you shudder to know you got him that worked up. 

 

“Bucky,” you moaned, waiting for him to open his eyes. When he finally looked at you, you gave a pleading look, flicking your tongue across your lower lip. “Move, baby, please,” you begged.

 

He mirrored your grin, adjusting his grip on your hips. “Anything you say, doll,” he replied. 

 

Then he was railing you, pulling out just to slam back against your ass with a loud slap. He was thrusting so hard you were slowly moving closer to the headboard and you had to throw your arm around your head to keep from slamming into it. You were seeing stars each time he hit deep inside you, curses and moans spilling out of you. 

 

“You gonna come, baby?” Bucky rasped.

 

“I-I’m-uhhh,” you groaned as he pounded against your spot, hard, punching the air from your lungs. You heard Bucky give a dark, breathless chuckle at your response. He gave another strong hard thrust and your head did, indeed, smack the headboard. You let out a surprised squeak.

 

“Jeez, baby, I'm sorry,” Bucky apologized, coming to a stop. You whimpered, feeling your orgasm slip away. Bucky let go of your hips and wrapped his arms around your torso, folding himself over your body. “Are you alright? I'm sorry I keep hurting you.” Bucky squeezed you tighter, his cheek against your shoulder blade. 

 

You laughed. “I'm fine, Bucky. You didn't hurt me,” you assured him. “Now, please, just go back to fucking me.”

 

You felt him smile against your skin. He kept his grip around you, lifting you back up with him as he sat back on his heels, leaving you on your knees, your back moulded to his chest. He began thrusting his hips into you again. His hands on your torso traveled, settling his flesh arm between your breasts and wrapping his hand around your throat. His metal hand splayed out over your lower belly, allowing his middle finger to bump against your clit with every thrust. The sensation was perfect and soon you were a moaning mess in his arms. 

 

“That's it, love,” he coaxed, feeling your walls fluttering and contracting around his cock. “Ooh, baby, that feels so fucking good.” Bucky picked up his pace just a little and sent you screaming into your orgasm. Your hands flew back, lacing into his hair, pulling, your head thrown back on his shoulder.

 

“God, I fucking love you,” he growled, his face against your neck, as his thrusts stuttered and he let out a cry as you felt his release, warm inside of you. 

 

Moments later he stilled his hips, breathing heavy, holding you both up while you came down. He pressed gentle lazy kisses to your neck while you twirled your fingers in the hair at the nape of your neck. 

 

“What is it?” You asked into the quiet after a few moments.

 

“Hmm?” He hummed against your neck. He lifted you a little, pulling out, and then set you down on the mattress. You twisted, wrapping your arms around his neck.

 

“You said you knew what you wanted to do today. What is it?” You repeated as you looked at him. 

 

He smiled, reaching out to grab your waist, his thumbs rubbing circles. “I wanna see how many times I can make you come.”

 

You laughed, letting your head fall forward, your forehead resting on his chest. “I really didn't know what I was getting myself into when I agreed to start sleeping with a super soldier, I guess.”

 

You felt a chuckle rumble through his chest. “Don't blame the serum, doll, it's your own damn fault for being so sexy.”

 

You picked your head back up, giving him a skeptical look. “Or maybe you're just insatiable,” you deadpanned in return.

 

“Would you prefer me to keep my hands to myself?” Bucky offered with a cocky grin. 

 

“Yeah, I don't think you could, love,” you replied. “Even if I said I wanted you to.”

 

“Nope, I couldn't,” he agreed, bending his head just a little to give you a kiss. 

 

You laughed again, removing your arms from his neck, scooting to get off the bed. He followed you with his eyes as you got up.

 

“You don't like my idea?” He pouted, sticking his lip out at you.

 

“Bucky, we can't just stay here having sex all day. If for no other reason than the fact that our family is waiting for us downstairs. It's Sunday, and since the Barton family is here, then Barton family breakfast is also here.” You turned to face him, crossing your arms. “I'm going to get my banana pancakes, with or without you.”

 

He sighed. “Alright, fine. Pancakes.” He got off the bed, walking to you. He used a finger to tilt your chin up and met your mouth with his in a soft kiss. “But I'm still going to see how many times I can make you come today. Fair warning,” he cautioned, giving you a devilish grin.

 

***

 

The common area was buzzing with people by the time you got downstairs. In the far corner, you saw there was a game of Mario Kart going. Peter, Ned, Sam, and Cooper were competing. You could hear the laughter and trash talk, mostly from Sam, as he was clearly getting his ass kicked. Steve was leaning up against the wall, watching it all unfold with a smirk on his face. Natasha and Laura were sitting at the table drinking coffee and chatting.

 

As you descended the stairs, you noticed Thor was out cold on one of the couches, completely unbothered by the noise and people. You stopped dead when you realized Nathaniel and Morgan had markers- your good art markers, you realized- and were happily coloring away on the face of the god of thunder. You couldn't even be mad, it was so hilarious. You just shook your head and continued on to the kitchen. You felt Bucky place his hand on your back and you turned to look at him. 

 

“Gonna go watch Sam fight with the kids,” he said with a childish grin before walking toward the game players. 

 

You shook your head, rounding on the kitchen island. Lila was making a fresh French press.

 

“Oh, just in time,” you said, watching her press the coffee. Lila giggled as you put an arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze. “Morning, Hawklet.”

 

Lila laughed harder. “You just like to irritate him,” she said, nodding her head toward her father who was behind you at the stove.

 

You grinned, taking the coffee she offered. “Somebody's gotta do it when you guys aren't around.”

 

You heard an exaggerated sigh and you turned around, chuckling quietly. Clint and Kate were in front of the stove, flipping pancakes and scrambling eggs in perfect sync, food and utensils flying back and forth like they were putting on a show.

 

You took a couple steps to him and put your free arm around Clint’s shoulders, looking over at the pan in his hands. “Mornin’, Hawk.”

 

Clint dropped a kiss to the back of your head, like you were one of his kids and you couldn't help the warm smile it brought. “Mornin’, Kes.” He saw you eyeing the various pans on the stove and stacks of serving dishes on the counter. “Yes, this is your pancakes,” he answered before you could ask, gesturing with the pan he was holding.

 

You quirked an eyebrow and opened your mouth but before you could speak, he answered again.

 

“Yes, banana pancakes,” Clint confirmed.

 

“You're the best,” you said, pecking his cheek. He just rolled his eyes, but you could see the small smile on his face. You let go and walked past him to lean on the counter next to Kate. 

 

“You got pulled for kitchen duty this morning, I see,” you commented, sipping your coffee. 

 

Kate sighed. “I was told it was a training exercise,” she groused, shooting Clint a dirty look. “Training for what, I'm not sure. Maybe Clint thinks I'm gonna give up my bow and have ten kids instead.”

 

You laughed and Clint shrugged. “Wouldn't be the worst way to spend your life, kid.”

 

“Yeah, we were all just thinking that, in 1943,” Kate shot back, but she didn't miss a beat when a pancake was suddenly flying out of the pan Clint was holding, across the stove, and caught in the one she held.

 

“See, I told you; training. Hand eye coordination and teamwork,” Clint stated, with a nod.

 

You rolled your eyes, but laughed, leaving the two of them to argue and finish breakfast. You took a seat at the table with Natasha and Laura. You watched Nathaniel and Morgan run past, squealing, Thor close behind muttering about being a prince of Asgard and outrage.

 

“You guys only use that spot for storage anyway,” Nat was saying as you sat down. 

 

“Yeah, and Clint can find somewhere else to store his projects,” Laura agreed. “Or better yet, get rid of them.”

 

You sipped your coffee, looking between them trying to catch up with the conversation.

 

“They're going to convert part of the barn into a little apartment space for Kate,” Nat filled you in. 

 

“Oh, that makes sense,” you nodded. “She practically lives with you guys, anyway. Her turn, I guess,” you chuckled. 

 

“It's apparently a rite of passage for Team Hawkeye,” Laura said with a good natured roll of her eyes. “I figure if Clint is going to keep taking in strays, we should have a designated space for them. Nathaniel's bunk bed only works for so long.”

 

“That's true. When I was there, I didn't have to share,” I agreed. I gave a teasing smile. “I mean, you could try to convince the grumpy old man to stop falling for every sob story from a sad little girl with a bow and see how that goes. He just complains about us anyway.”

 

Laura just gave a laugh and shook her head. “And he'll go right on complaining, I'm sure, even when I'm being given pictures of you all to hang with the family photos. But maybe, just maybe, Kate can be the last and he'll finally retire.”

 

She said it with a smile and a small laugh, but you could see there was some amount of sadness behind it. You could only imagine what it felt like to wait at home wondering if he would come back this time. You had a hard enough time when Bucky was standing next to you with the bullets flying. It must be that much worse when you're not there to watch over each other. And then there were the kids to worry about. You felt a sudden pang of distress for Laura's situation and you found yourself wishing he would finally hang up the bow.

 

You were pulled back to the present when you heard Natasha scoff. “He said he was gonna hang it up when YN was officially made part of the team. Here we are again with another one. I don't know if he'll ever really do it.”

 

You tilted your head thoughtfully. “I can always “accidentally” shoot him in the leg for you. That'll keep him home for a bit, maybe convince him to stay,” you joked, and all three of you laughed for a moment.

 

Clint and Kate were setting dishes on the table in front of you now while Nathaniel and Morgan brought plates and set the table.

 

“What's so funny?” Kate asked with a curious smile as she set down a stack of pancakes. 

 

“We're planning Clint's retirement party,” Natasha replied with a mischievous raise of an eyebrow. 

 

Kate audibly gasped and her face contorted into something a little sad and possibly even scared. “Clint's retiring???” She all but shrieked. She snapped her head up to look at him with those bright sad eyes and you felt sorry for her.

 

Clint rolled his eyes and laughed, putting an arm around her shoulders to pull her into a side hug. He placed a gentle kiss on her head, just like he had done for you earlier and Kate seemed to relax a little.

 

“I'm not going anywhere, kid,” he promised. “Nat just likes to try and get rid of me every couple of years.”

 

“Maybe I'm just tired of having to save your sorry ass,” Nat shot back without missing a beat.

 

Distracted by Nat and Clint bickering, you didn't notice that Yelena had slipped in to sit beside you until she leaned in, talking quietly.

 

“You would think they are the siblings, the way they fight,” Yelena remarked with a smile. 

 

You quickly turned your head to look at her, trying not to look as surprised as you felt. She grinned at you over the coffee mug at her lips.

 

“Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,” she apologized. “Sometimes I forget that I'm so stealthy,” she laughed at her own joke and you saw Nat roll her eyes. 

 

You pulled yourself together and smiled back. “No, that's on me. I should be more aware of my surroundings. It's not a good sign if you can sneak up on an Avenger,” you poked fun at yourself. You fought hard against the voice in your head telling you that she was some kind of threat, begging your rational mind to accept that she was just another person, occasionally even a teammate, and you had no reason to get your guard up.

 

Yelena shook her head, waving her hand at you. “No, don't be so hard on yourself. I sneak up on everyone. One time I startled James so suddenly that he actually stabbed me. I still have the scar, see?” Yelena lifted the edge of her shirt and you could see a faint small scar on her right side. “Besides, I've seen you on missions. No one gets the drop on you,” she stated firmly, giving you a smile that you knew was meant to be friendly. 

 

You knew that. You knew she was trying to show nothing but camaraderie and you didn't miss how hard she was trying to show you she was no threat.

 

But your mind stopped thinking when she said his name and without your permission it began to think of absolutely nothing but what kind of situation had ended up with Bucky pulling a knife on her. Because the only situation you could conjure was when he was having a nightmare and the thought of her in his bed was making you nauseous.

 

Like he could feel the anxiety rolling off you from across the room, in a split second Bucky was behind you, his hand on your shoulder. You leaned back and looked at him and he gave you a bright smile, one meant to drown out the worry he knew was just behind his eyes and reassure you.

 

You smiled back just as bright, willing the anxiety to ease, commanding your mind to focus on reality. Bucky leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. 

 

“Come on, doll, let's give Steve your seat by his girl,” Bucky suggested, pulling the chair out so you could stand. You did as requested, getting up and moving to the other side of the table to sit by Clint. As you sat down, Bucky pushed your chair in for you.

 

You didn't see the look he silently shot at Yelena, so quickly most would have missed it. But you did see her shift minutely, you might say squirm, even, and she gave you a wide smile that was just a hint apologetic.

 

You swallowed, smiling back, hoping it came across as accepting. You didn't know when you would stop reacting that way to her presence, but you hoped it was soon because it was an awful feeling to be hijacked by a swell of emotions you knew were irrational. That was the kind of thing that created liability in the field and you would rather take a bullet than risk your team like that.

 

Clint put his hand on your knee, giving you a reassuring pat. You turned to look at him.

 

“You're okay, Kes. Breathe,” he signed. “I know she still scares you. But, remember, he picked you.” Clint emphasized the sign with a fist tapping your chest. “And if he fucks up, I'll use him as fertilizer in Laura's garden.”

 

You let out a sharp laugh at the unexpected joke and it startled the group of people that had now congregated at the table. You just shook your head at Clint, letting it fall to land on his shoulder as you continued to laugh.

 

“Love you, Hawk,” you giggled, sitting back up, feeling much better.

 

He patted your knee again, turning back toward the food to begin scooping some eggs onto your plate. “Love you too, Kes,” he returned.

 

You felt a hand squeezing your other knee. You turned and Bucky smiled. “I think maybe I should have asked Clint’s permission before I proposed,” he remarked, shaking his head.

 

Clint was doling out pancakes and you saw him shake his head. “Good thing you didn't, cause I woulda said no and she would have disowned me.” He gave Bucky a sideways look, but there was nothing but amusement in his eyes.

 

Clint placed pancakes on your plate as well, and you couldn't help but shake your head and laugh. “I'm not one of your kids, Hawk. I can get my own damn pancakes.” Clint ignored you, but reached out to muss your hair. It felt an awful lot like he was trying to prove you were indeed one of his kids. 

 

You started in on your pancakes and watched Tony, Pepper, and Bruce come in and sit down. Everyone was chatting and eating. The kids, or at least those close to it, were around the kitchen island. You heard lots of giggling.

 

A few minutes later, Tony was shouting for everyone's attention.

 

“Alright, Avengers,” he looked around, gesturing to the island. “And Avengers-in-training; here's the deal. We gotta get out of the city.”

 

Tony looked around, clocking reactions, some confusion, some nodding, mostly curiosity.

 

“Like, for the weekend?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

The muscle in Tony's cheek twitched. You fought back a chuckle as you watched him fight the urge to roll his eyes. 

 

“No, Wingman, I do not mean for the weekend. I mean for good.”

 

There was a collective furrowing of brows in question across the room. Ever the diplomat, Steve voiced what everyone was thinking. “Tony, why don't you tell us what you have in mind.”

 

“Right,” Tony clapped and a holograph hovered over the table. There were schematics, a building model, and a camera feed. “Heroes and heroins, these are our new digs.”

 

You watched as the display cycled through showing multiple buildings on a property. It outlined living quarters, common areas, a training center, barracks for SHIELD agents, a medical center, hangars and garages, science labs, and so on. It was a compound, Avengers home base. Tony continued to explain that it was upstate and off the beaten path, not a soul around for miles. He outlined the obvious reasons for relocation; we were a target and the city was highly populous, the added space would be very useful.

 

“Plus,” he added with a sly smile. “ Our little family keeps growing. Between all the little Hawlets and Maximoffs, and now with these guys shacking-up,” he gestured to the end of the table where you, Bucky, Steve, and Natasha sat, “Who knows, we might run out of space.”

 

A round of laughter echoed through the room. You groaned, burying your face in your hand. Bucky put an arm around your shoulders, giving Tony a half-hearted glare, but he couldn't stop the chuckle that followed.

 

“Wait- are you guys pregnant???” Yelena asked, pointing to you and Bucky with a wide grin.

 

The table went silent and all eyes turned to you. 

 

“What?! NO!” You all but shouted. “Absolutely not.” You vehemently replied with a visible shudder.

 

The entire room erupted into waves of cackling laughter, you included. You looked at Bucky out of the corner of your eye and saw him laughing too, but you didn't miss how his eyes got a little tighter at the corners. 

 

“Alright, everyone. You’ve got a month until moving day,” Tony declared, settling the matter.

Chapter 8: Where's Your Head

Notes:

I jumped the gun a bit on this chapter and after posting, decided it didn't feel finished. I apologize if you already read it, but it's been updated.

That afternoon, you found yourself in the training ring, Bucky across from you as you sparred. He threw a slow right hook, which you easily dodged, ducking to wrap around his middle, hooking a foot around his right ankle, pulling his leg out from under him and using the momentum to lay him out on the mat. 

 

You stood back, staring down at him, hands on your hips, brows knit together. “What the hell was that, Barnes?”

 

Bucky blinked watching you hover above him. “What was what?” He took the hand you offered, helping him back to his feet.

 

“There's no way I should have been able to put you down like that,” you said, narrowing your eyes as you watched him take a lazy stance, shifting his weight back and forth.

 

“That's not true. You're smaller than me. You have an advantage. Don't sell yourself short,” he tried to give you a playful grin, but you could see he was distracted. 

 

“Bullshit, Buck, you basically stood there and let me drop you,” you insisted, blocking a few blows, dropping to your knees, sliding between his legs and turning to kick at his knee. He went down again, on one knee this time, leaving you room to reposition and the next thing he knew, you had him pinned to the floor, straddling his torso, forearm to his neck.

 

“Bucky, where are you?” You watched his face with concern. Bucky looked a million miles away.

 

But it only lasted a split second before he was reaching up to grab your hips. In a swift and fluid motion, he flipped your positions and you were underneath him, his body pressing you firmly to the mat. He gave you another playful grin, head tilting. 

 

“I'm right here, doll,” he said, his blue eyes flashing with mischief. “Maybe I wanted to let you put me on the ground so I could do this.” And with that he had his lips pressed to yours. You felt his hands trailing up your body and he pressed down harder, grinding against you.

 

You couldn't stop the sigh that escaped your lips, but you pressed your hands to his chest, trying to push him back. “Buck, come on,” you breathed. 

 

He ignored you in favor of peppering kisses across your cheeks. He reached your jaw and ran his tongue along it until he came to your ear. “Do you really want me to stop?” He whispered, tugging the lobe between his teeth.

 

You tried to say yes, but your body betrayed you, moaning as he dropped his lips to your neck and sucked on your pulse point. Your hands curled into the fabric of his shirt, rolling your hips up to meet his. 

 

“I didn't think so,” he said with a satisfied smirk. You felt his left hand reaching between your bodies. He traced light circles on your core over your pants. You whined, your body arching into his touch, seeking more.

 

“No teasing, baby,” you pleaded. You rolled your hips toward his again, slipping a hand under his shirt and dragging your nails over his back. He hissed and ground his clothed cock down against you. You felt his hand move up to hook into the waistband of your pants.

 

You grabbed his wrist. “Anyone could walk in here.”

 

He flashed a wicked grin. “Then we better be quick,” he replied and then he sealed his mouth to yours, his tongue twisting around your own. You moaned as you felt his hands dragging your leggings down to give him access.

 

“Shhh, you gotta be quiet this time, doll, people could hear. Can you do that?” Bucky asked as he ran the fingers of his vibranium hand through your folds and pressed your clit.

 

You bit your lip stifling another moan as best you could. “I'll try, Buck,” you bit out. 

 

He got to his knees to quickly shove his own pants down just far enough to free his hard length and then settled his weight over you again. He was holding himself lined up with your entrance. 

 

“I'll have to find something to stuff in your mouth if you can't,” he warned with a wink. You bit down harder on your lower lip, forcing back the sounds threatening to leave your throat as he sank into you.

 

“Hang on to me, doll,” he instructed. You wove your arms around his back and up to hook onto his shoulders. He propped himself on his forearms “I told you, we gotta make this quick.”

 

He set a quick pace, rolling his hips and staying as deep in you as he could. You could feel the pressure of his pubic bone hitting your clit with each roll and it had you rocking with him, the pleasure quickly building. Before long, you felt that familiar coil tightening more and more. It was getting harder to keep yourself quiet and a few moans slipped out as you reached the cusp of your release.

 

“Bucky,” you breathed out as quietly as you could. “I'm gonna come.” He could feel you squeezing around his cock.

 

“Bite down on my shoulder, baby,” he encouraged. A moment later, you fell over the edge and did as he instructed, sinking your teeth into his shoulder to stifle the sounds of your climax. He kept his pace, working you through the orgasm, and a few moments later you felt his muscles go rigid above you and then relax as his own release came.

 

He gave both of you no more than a moment to recover before sitting up, fixing his pants, and reaching down to fix yours as well. You sat up on your elbows, fixing him with a pointed glare. 

 

“You can't just fuck me every time you want to avoid talking about something,” you stated. “That will only work for so long.”

 

Bucky shrugged with a lopsided grin. He stood, reaching his hand down to pull you up. “I'll just have to find a new tactic when it stops working, I guess.”

 

“Bucky, why were you so distracted when we were sparring?” You held his eyes as you ducked under the rope out of the ring. You watched a smirk start on his lips, and immediately held up a hand. “Don't give me some line about how distracting I am, Barnes.”

 

He laughed, slipping under the rope and standing in front of you. “Alright, fine,” he tucked a strand of hair that has come loose from your braid behind your ear. “It might be a line, but that doesn't mean it isn't true.”

 

You walked together out of the gym and stood waiting for the elevator. Bucky took your hand and you could feel him tracing circles over the back with his thumb. The elevator doors opened and you both stepped inside. You waited silently to arrive at your floor.

 

“That's two, so far,” Bucky said. 

 

You turned toward him, brows furrowed in confusion. “Two?” You repeated. He nodded. “Two what?”

 

He gave you a cocky grin, leaning down closer to your ear. “Two times I've made you come, so far today.”

 

You gave him an incredulous look.

 

“I told you, doll, that's what I wanted to do today; see how many times I can make you come,” he stepped to the doors as they were opening. “And we've still got plenty of day left.”

 

You followed him out of the elevator, shaking your head. You were at his apartment again. It occurred to you that you should probably bring some clothes over here instead of continuing to steal his shirts.

 

Once inside, Bucky turned and wrapped you in his arms, pulling you against him, and kissed you sweetly. You smiled against his lips as he let go, looking up at him. 

 

“Please tell me what was on your mind before,” you pleaded. “We've never been scared to share with each other before. We can't start now. This won't work if we start treating each other differently.”

 

“I know, love,” Bucky agreed with a nod. He dropped his arms and ran a hand through his hair. “I don't know why it feels harder now.”

 

“I'm sorry. I hope you would tell me if I'm doing something to make you feel like you can't talk to me,” you fought the urge to stare at the floor and avoid him. 

 

“No, babe, it's not you,” he assured, shaking his head. “I guess it was just easier to say whatever I thought before…” Bucky paused gaze shifting his eyes to the floor, trying to figure out how to convey his thoughts. 

 

“... Before you had to worry whether or not it would affect your sex life?” You offered with a teasing grin.

 

Bucky snapped his head back to look at you again. “No, that's- you're not just-” he looked genuinely worried. 

 

You laughed, placing a hand on his chest to comfort him. “I'm teasing, love. I know that's not what you're thinking.”

 

“I guess now I'm just always wondering if I'm going to say the wrong thing and push you away.”

 

You twisted your lip, feeling both sad that he worried you would leave him and appreciative that he was that concerned with hurting you. You wondered again why you had spent so long trying to bury how you felt about him.

 

“Bucky, you've been doing stupid things for years. I'm still here,” you reminded him with a teasing grin.

 

Bucky gave you a crooked smile, head rolling to the side. “Yeah, that's true. If you didn't leave me after that time I dropped your art supplies over a cliff, I guess you never will,” he said with a devilish grin.

 

You groaned and crossed your arms, eyes rolling hard. “Really? You had to bring that up? I'm still angry about that, by the way. There were colors in that palette I'll never be able to replace,” you huffed.

 

Bucky shook his head adamantly. “You can be mad forever, if you want, doll. I'm not sorry. It was your life or a bag of paints. It wasn't even a question.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But I'm still annoyed.”

 

Bucky turned to the kitchen as he chuckled. “I'll make it up to you eventually.”

 

You watched Bucky go to the fridge and grab water bottles. He handed one to you as he walked by, sitting on the couch. You followed and sat next to him. You took a few moments to sip your water, watching him do the same. You waited patiently for him to speak, hoping he didn't think you would be okay with just letting this go. He watched beads of condensation slide down the bottle.

 

“At breakfast this morning, when Yelena asked if you were pregnant,” Bucky began. 

 

You watched him closely, as he struggled to convey his thoughts. “I wasn't upset, Buck, if that's what you're worried about. I know she didn't mean anything by it.”

 

“No, I wasn't worried about that,” he said, shaking his head. “It was just that, when you answered, you were so… intense, fierce, even, insistent on that not happening. It felt like- made me wonder, I guess I should say- is the idea of having my baby that… offensive?”

 

You felt your stomach drop. You watched Bucky running his fingers nervously over the water bottle, refusing to look at you. But it was the look on his face that made you feel sick. Be it ever so slightly, his face held the pain of rejection.

 

You immediately set down the bottle you held, slid across the couch, and crawled into his lap. He wrapped his arms around you on impulse, tucking your head under his chin. You splayed a hand across his chest and felt his heartbeat under your fingertips. You stayed there for a moment, your chests rising and falling together, formulating how to respond. 

 

“Bucky, look at me,” you instructed. His chin lifted from your head and you picked your head up from his chest, eyes darting up to meet his. “There's no part of you I don't want, and certainly nothing I find offensive. I love you, Bucky Barnes.”

 

You could feel his heartbeat flutter a little where your hand rested. He smiled at you, though it was small and a little bashful. “I know, love. I'm sorry, I don't know why I was worried.”

 

You chewed at your lip for a moment, trying to decide if you should say more. You didn't want to start keeping things from each other, just like you had told Bucky earlier. But you also understood what he meant about being concerned you could drive each other away now. It somehow felt more risky. 

 

Still, you couldn't insist that he be open with you and then not say the same. 

 

“How I feel about the idea of having a baby- anyone's baby, not just yours- has nothing to do with you. It's not a reflection on you or how I feel about you,” you told him. You took a second to breathe, knowing what you said next would have lasting repercussions. “I don't want kids, Buck. I never have.”

 

You concentrated on Bucky's expression as you finished speaking. You could feel your pulse rising and you fought to keep your anxiety at bay. You felt knots in your stomach as you waited for him to respond.

 

Bucky took in your words. He wasn't sure how to respond. Was that what he had expected you to say? Was it what he wanted you to say? What did he want? He realized he hadn't spent much time thinking about it and he wasn't sure he knew.

 

Bucky frowned, confused. “But you love Clint's kids, and the twins. You're so good with them. You seem so happy to have them around. Even your relationship with your nephew- but you don't want your own?”

 

“I love their kids,” you affirmed. “I love being the fun aunt. I love spending time with them. But I also love giving them back. I don't have any desire to have my own. This isn't new. I actually decided when I was 14 that I didn't want kids. I pretty much knew before that, but at that point, I made up my mind and I've never changed it.”

 

Bucky didn't say anything. He just took in your words and let them rest. You searched his face but you couldn't tell what he was thinking. After several moments of silence and trying not to squirm from the uncertainty, you asked.

 

“Please tell me what you're thinking, babe. The lack of response is killing me,” you sat up and slid off his lap to sit on the couch next to him once more. Your hands fell to your lap, wringing nervously.

 

“I don't really know,” he replied with sincerity. “I never stopped to think about whether it was something I actually wanted or not. It's never been a realistic possibility.”

 

You nodded, feeling mildly less nervous. “Well, you don't have to decide right now. I'm not expecting you to. But I do think it's important that you know I'm unlikely to change my mind. I have yet to feel differently, no matter who I'm with or where my life is.” You swallowed thickly and steadied your breathing. “And I don't want to hold you back if you decide it's not something you want to give up.”

 

Bucky fixed you with a strong, meaningful look. “I can't imagine any scenario where I could want something in my life more than you, YN. I don't think there's really anything to decide.”

 

You forcefully shook your head at him. “No way, Buck. I'm not letting you do that. If you've never given it serious thought, then you need to. It's a major life decision and I'm not going to let you bypass it, no matter how much I want to be with you. You have to decide what you want for yourself.”

 

“I did, love, I want you,” he clasped a hand to your cheek and kissed you. “I wouldn't mind having a couple kids, I won't lie, and if for whatever reason, you ever did change your mind, I'm good with that. But if you never do and it's just you and me, that's okay too. I'm not looking to trade what I have for imaginary possibilities. You're my future. That's more than enough.”

 

You watched him feeling tears prick at your eyes. You didn't think you could possibly love this man anymore than you did at that moment. You felt a tiny flicker of something in your chest, but it faded quickly and you let it go.

 

The rest of the day went by with ease. You remembered to get some clothes to keep at his place, even if you did forget until after getting out of a very long shower (he had warned you, after all, that he was determined to see how many times he could pull an orgasm out of you today). You made dinner for you both and complained about his barren kitchen for the thousandth time.

 

Afterwards, you curled up on his couch, like you did most Sunday nights, a favorite tv show on, glass of wine in hand, while Bucky read a book. The only difference now was how Bucky turned and pulled you over to lean against his chest, dragging his fingertips lightly over your arm every so often. It felt so strangely normal. 

 

“What do you think of us having to move?” You asked into the quiet. 

 

Bucky kept his eyes on his book, but hummed. “Haven't given it much thought. Guess I'm used to moving around. I never really called any place home but Brooklyn.”

 

You nodded silently. “I get why we have to do it. It makes sense. It doesn't really bother me since I grew up upstate anyway. I don't love the idea of being that much further away from Peter, but it'll be fine.”

 

Bucky nodded and hummed in response, reaching up to turn a page. “I'm sure there'll be plenty of room for Peter to come stay with us whenever you want to see him. Tony doesn't do anything small.”

 

“‘Us?’” You repeated back as a question. “You mean like as in staying at the compound, with everyone, or are you saying ‘us’, like you are me, as in our shared living space?”

 

Bucky stopped reading and looked at you. “I guess I assumed, since we're moving anyway… we would just move in together.”

 

You gave him a pensive look, tapping your chin, but you couldn't help the little smile that played on your lips. “I suppose it would be convenient, not having to dart back and forth for clothing. You would lose less shirts that way.”

 

“Convenient? That's very romantic, doll.” Bucky sarcastically scoffed. He snapped his book shut and set it down.

 

He reached his arm to grab you and a moment later you were being turned around and guided to straddle his legs. He gently pulled you down to sit on his thighs, smirking. He ran his hands slowly up your body, lingering when his fingers grazed the underside of your breasts. He smiled watching you arch ever so slightly into his touch.

 

“I was joking, love,” you said with a soft giggle as his hands continued on, wrapping around your middle, and his thumbs grazed so lightly along your sides that it tickled. “But if you want me to scream with excitement and shower you with affection, that can be arranged.”

 

Bucky's eyes narrowed and his smirk darkened. His voice came out low, almost menacing. “I definitely wanna hear you scream, doll, if you're offering.” You offered a suggestive look, biting your lip 

 

His hands gripped hard, yanking you against his body with force. A dark chuckle escaped his lips at the tiny shriek his movements elicited. He ran his hands up your back and you shuddered.

 

“We're up to six, so far, baby,” he whispered against your throat, lips and teeth grazing. You rolled your head back to give him better access, sighing as his lips continued to dance over your skin. “We've still got a few hours left. Let's see how many more you can give me.”

Chapter 9: Moving Day

Just like that, a month was gone and moving day was here. Things had been relatively quiet. You were sent on a couple surveillance ops, tracking renegades and remnants from Hydra, not much panning out. It was hard not to feel like things had been too quiet for too long and wonder when the other shoe would drop. But that was part of the life and each of you did your best to just be grateful for the quiet while you had it. 

 

You passed a box to Bucky as soon as he entered the room. He read the words scrolled on the side and laughed. 

 

“Are you sure you want to trust me with this?” When you looked back at him, he was smirking, holding the box out hesitantly, emphasizing the black writing that clearly read “paints, brushes, sketchbooks”.

 

You rolled your eyes. “Consider it a second chance. If you find a cliff to dump them off between here and the garage, then I guess it would serve me right.”

 

Bucky laughed again, pulling the box into his chest and leaning over to kiss your cheek. “I promise I'll never lose your paints again, doll,” he swore. “Unless your life is on the line. Then all bets are off.”

 

“I guess that's fair,” you conceded. You lovingly patted his cheek, placing a peck to his lips. You swung a bag across your body and glanced around your now empty room. “That's the last of it. Ready to get on the road?”

 

“Yep, let's go,” Bucky waited for you to walk out before following.

 

You made your way down to the garage. There were moving vans and people everywhere, a veritable circus. You wove your way through the chaos to the far end where the team's personal vehicles were kept. Everyone else had left about an hour ago. Leaving just your car and Bucky's bike.

 

As you approached, you saw Peter and Ned leaning against the trunk, waiting. Bucky handed Peter the box he was carrying.

 

“Make sure that stays safe, kid,” he instructed with a serious tone, but he couldn't keep the mocking grin from his face.

 

“Uh, okay…” Peter eyed the box skeptically, but took it gingerly from Bucky's hands and tucked it safely into the back seat.

 

Bucky walked over to his bike, grabbing a heavy jacket that was lying across the seat. He held it out to you and you took it, slipping your arms inside. It was heavy, and more importantly, it was way too warm. 

 

“Buck, do I have to?” You whined, shrugging at the unwanted covering. “This thing is uncomfortable. Can't I just put my faith in you to keep us safe?”

 

Bucky didn't even bat an eyelash.

 

“Nope,” he replied, handing you a helmet.

 

You took it with a groan. “This is more gear than I wear on a field op,” you grumbled. 

 

“You can keep complaining, doll, but I'm not budging. I don't take chances with your life,” Bucky grinned and tilted his head. “And you look fucking hot in leather.”

 

You whipped your head back around toward your car and were relieved to find that the boys were already inside. You turned back to Bucky with a chastising look.

 

“Good thing my nephew was out of earshot, Buck,” you chided.

 

Bucky just shrugged, grin still in place. He turned and swung his leg over his bike, gesturing for you to do the same once he was seated. You did, sliding in behind him. Before putting on the helmet, you made eye contact with Peter and then signed that you would meet them at the compound and they should call Bucky if they needed you guys. Peter looked confused for a moment. You signed again, more slowly and you saw him mouth “oh, okay” before signing back “okay, see you later” and starting the car. 

 

You watched Peter and Ned pull out and put your helmet on. You wrapped your arms tight around Bucky's waist. 

 

“You ready, babe?” Bucky asked, grabbing his helmet off the handle. You nodded. He nodded back, slipping the helmet on.”Hang on tight, doll.”

 

Moments later you were weaving through city streets and then it wasn't long before you were out of the concrete jungle. The traffic was thinner, and then you were exiting the highway onto empty roads lined with trees.

 

You found yourself enjoying the ride through the countryside. Trees and fields flew by in your periphery. You felt Bucky slowing down as you came around a bend in the road. He pulled over on the gravel, coming to a stop and shutting off the bike. 

 

Bucky took off his helmet and you were quick to follow suit, glad to be rid of it. You took a deep breath and smiled when you turned to face you. 

 

“I can breathe again,” you gratefully sighed. 

 

Bucky chuckled, gesturing for you to dismount. He took the helmet from you and you did as he asked. He followed, setting both your helmets down. 

 

“What's going on, Buck, we're only about halfway there?” You asked as you unzipped the heavy leather jacket.

 

“Come on, I want to show you something,” he replied, taking your hand and guiding you toward a barely perceivable path.

 

You made your way through knee deep brush and through some trees, and then you were staring out over the valley as the river snaked through. It was a lovely view.

 

“This is so nice,” you said as you watched the water flow.

 

Bucky nodded. “I found this spot on a ride once, years back when I first got back. There was very little that brought me any kind of peace then, but this did. I used to come here all the time, for peace and quiet, but I haven't been back for a long time now.”

 

You smiled. “It's a beautiful spot. I can understand why.” You took in the sweeping view in the late morning sun, appreciating the landscape. 

 

“Why haven't you been back in so long?” You asked, turning to him with a furrowed brow. “We weren't far away. I'm surprised you never showed me before.”

 

Bucky shrugged, a small half smile on his lips. “I guess I stopped feeling like I needed it, after Steve brought me to live at the tower,” Bucky tilted his head, looking you in the eye. “When I met you.”

 

You gave him a soft, sincere smile, leaning in to put your head on his shoulder. You found yourself wondering, for the millionth time, how you two had ended up here. Sometimes it still seemed so surreal. Bucky dropped your hand and put his arm around your waist instead and you did the same to him. You moulded to his side like it was made for you to fit there. 

 

“If only the world knew just how soft and sentimental the Winter Soldier really was,” you said. “They'd be more afraid of a litter of puppies.”

 

You turned to look at him with a teasing smirk and kissed his cheek. Bucky rolled his eyes and you laughed. 

 

“It's only for you, doll,” he replied, squeezing your side. “And the world hasn't known fear until they're standing between you and the espresso machine at 3am before a 9 hour flight to Bucharest. Winter Soldier or not, I've never been so convinced I might die.”

 

You chuckled, patting his back. “Nah, you would have been fine, healing factor and all that. But, yes, I won't lie, I did briefly consider maiming you…” you darted your eyes to his metal arm “... Again.”

 

Bucky's eyes flew wide with shock that quickly turned into disbelief, but he was grinning. “Jeez, babe, hit a guy where it hurts, why don't ya?”

 

Bucky just shook his head and laughed when you replied with an innocent pout. He kissed your temple. “You're gonna be the death of me, doll, I just know it.”

 

You cocked your head with a devilish grin. “I kinda like knowing I have that effect on you; not many people can say they have the ability to bring a super soldier to his knees.”

 

Bucky raised an eyebrow, voice dropping just a little. “I'll get on my knees for you anytime, love, you just say the word.”

 

You just rolled your eyes, turning back to the view. “Maybe later,” you replied. “After my nephew leaves,” you added with a pointed look.

 

Bucky looked at you offended. “What do you take me for?”

 

“For someone who fucked me into the gym mats to avoid a conversation,” you deadpanned. 

 

He ever so subtly winced. “Okay, okay… after he leaves,” he conceded with another smirk.

 

You rolled your eyes again. “We should get back on the road. Everyone else will be done by the time we get there and we'll never hear the end of it for finding a way to avoid unpacking.”

 

“Alright, we'll go,” Bucky agreed. “I thought you might like to paint the view,” Bucky gestured out over the valley. “But you put your paints in the car.”

 

“Oh,” you reached into your bag hung across your torso and pulled out a small tin. “I always have paints on me.”

 

Bucky just laughed again. He let go of you, grabbed the jacket off your shoulders, and set it on the ground.

 

“Well go ahead, then,” he waved toward the jacket. “I know you want to.”

 

You did a little excited hop, dropping to sit on the jacket and opening your tin. You got to work laying down colors in a tiny sketchbook, lost to the feel of the brush and the landscape you were capturing 

 

Bucky stood behind you, watching you work and feeling himself fall in love with you all over again. He probably didn't tell you enough, but he loved this side of you. He respected the side of you that took out opponents and never missed a target and came out covered in blood and dirt with a straight face. He even found that side of you unbelievably attractive. But when you were lost in a landscape, biting your lip in concentration as you ran your brush over the paper, when you had your guard down and just existed with this simple thing that made you happy, that's when he knew he couldn't live without you. That was the part of you that needed protecting and nurturing.

 

And he would be damned if he ever watched anything or anyone take this away from either of you. 

 

You continued to work at your painting and Bucky took out his phone, snapping a picture. He smiled looking at it, your braids draped over your shoulders, staring out at the valley, brush dripping colors. He wanted to remember this.

 

***

 

When you finally arrived at the compound, the team was buzzing around, boxes everywhere, laughter and chaos drifting through the hallways. You dodged out of the way as the Maximoff twins and Nathaniel raced toward you, ignoring you and Bucky and shouting at one another.

 

You stopped at the doorway, staring into your new living space. It hit you that this wasn't just yours, but yours and Bucky's and you felt a jolt of nervousness. It was exciting to take this step, but a big change nonetheless. You felt Bucky squeeze your hand. 

 

“You okay, doll?”

 

You smiled. “I'm okay, Buck” you assured him.

 

You stepped inside and set your bag on a table by the door. There were boxes everywhere. Furniture was scattered and frames and paintings were leaning against walls.

 

You glanced around the open living area, noting doors that lead to closets and the bathroom. Tony decided that since everyone basically always cooked and ate together he would forgo the individual kitchens this time.

 

You looked around again, frowning this time. “Where's Ned and Peter? I didn't see them when we walked in.”

 

Bucky shrugged. “I didn't either. Maybe you should call Peter?”

 

But just as you pulled your phone from your pocket, the boys waltzed through the door, boxes in hand. Peter walked to the center of the room and set down a tower of boxes he had carried in. He stood up and smiled, not breaking a sweat. Poor Ned set down his last box and sat on it, huffing.

 

“That's the last of them,” Peter said, clapping his hands.

 

You gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks, bug. You guys could have waited for us. You didn't have to do that all yourselves.”

 

“It was no problem, Agent YLN,” Ned wheezed with a bleary eyed smile. 

 

You stared at the poor boy with sympathy. “I think I saw Vision making lunch. Why don't you guys go get something to drink and see if it's ready?”

 

They nodded and headed to the kitchen. You took a breath, grabbed a box, and got to work. 

 

You weren't sure how much time passed as you and Bucky unpacked and arranged furniture. You left him to arrange his books on the shelves and you hung paintings and pictures, occasionally asking for help when you wanted something higher up than you could reach.

 

Your friends and family filtered in and out throughout the day. Steve came by and helped Bucky set up your bed frame. Sam came by to laugh at Steve and Bucky as they tried to assemble your bed frame. You rolled your eyes at all of them, continuing to organize. 

 

You were finishing up with the bathroom when Kate came in and offered to help. You handed her a box of toiletries and she placed them one by one in the shower while you chatted. She was bringing the empty box to the counter when she paused. 

 

“What kind of bird is that?” She pointed to a small framed painting on a shelf. 

 

“That's a kestrel,” you replied.

 

“Oh, I guess I didn't know what they looked like,” Kate commented, examining the painting. Under the painting was a caption; tiniest bird of prey. Kate's eyes got wide as she made the connection. “Is that why Thor always calls you that? Because it's the tiniest bird of prey?”

 

You chuckled. “Clint gave me the callsign ‘Kestrel’ when we were at SHIELD, mostly as a joke, but it stuck. Thor wanted to know why. I told him it was because it's the tiniest bird of prey and Clint likes to remind me he's the big bird on this team. Thor got a kick out of it. Says it every time he sees me now.”

 

Kate laughed, rolling her eyes. “Except now he has Sam to compete with. This team has a weird thing for birds.”

 

You both laughed. Bucky appeared in the doorway, Steve over his shoulder. They looked between you, smiling, but clearly wondering if they should ask or if they would regret it. 

 

“Kate was learning about why Clint calls me ‘Kestrel’,” you explained. 

 

“Oh, right,” Steve nodded. “The whole “littlest hawk” thing, right?”

 

You nodded.

 

Kate crossed her arms. “Well, now I'm the littlest hawk, so how does that work?”

 

Before you could reply, a stampede of tiny feet could be heard entering the room.

 

“Uncle Steve!” Their little voices squealed.

 

You and Kate watched, practically in stitches, as the twins and Nathaniel rushed Steve. Steve grinned at you both before allowing himself to be tackled to the ground by the swarm of little boys.

 

“Ahh, you got me! You're too strong!” Steve dramatically declared as he hit the ground.

 

They were tugging at his limbs as he laughed. “Mom said to get you because it's time for dinner,” Tommy declared.

 

You snuck over, grabbed the closest child, which happened to be Nathaniel, and laughed at his surprised yelp. You leaned down to tickle him just a little and gave him a peck on the cheek. 

 

“I'm too big for kisses, Auntie Kes,” Nathaniel whined, wiping his cheek with a petulant pout.

 

You gave him a sad face. “Aw, no more kisses?”

 

Kate walked past you and picked Nathaniel up, throwing him over her shoulder and he belly laughed. “Nathaniel Pietro,” she chided. “You'll hurt Auntie Kes’ feelings. No one is ever too old for kisses.” Kate looked him in the eye before peppering his tiny face with butterfly kisses and he had no choice but to giggle. 

 

“Exactly,” you agreed with Kate. 

 

Bucky was helping Steve to his feet, Tommy and Billy each clinging to one of his legs. You gave Nathaniel a smile, stepped over to Steve and kissed his cheek. “See, Uncle Steve still gets kisses too.”

 

Steve shook his head and chuckled, reaching down to untangle the twins from his legs. They looked up at him grinning.

 

“Alright, we better not keep your mom waiting,” Steve said, motioning everyone towards the door. 

 

“Come on, Uncle Bucky,” Billy said, darting over to grab Bucky's left hand and pull him toward the door.

 

You saw Bucky stiffen as the boy pulled him along. Bucky liked the kids, but they usually ran right for you and sort of just tolerated him as in your orbit. He willed himself to relax as the small boy’s hand held his.

 

“Did you help with dinner?” Bucky asked Billy as everyone made their way to the kitchen. 

 

“I cut vegetables,” Billy proudly replied. 

 

Bucky's eyebrows raised in surprise. “Your mom lets you use knives?”

 

You laughed and Bucky turned to look at you, confused. “What? Isn't he kinda young?”

 

Billy lightly waved his free hand. Blue energy flashed and then a small paring knife appeared in it.

 

You snapped your head toward him. “Whoa, who taught you that?”

 

Billy giggled. “Uncle Loki.”

 

You rolled your eyes. “Of course.”

 

When you entered the kitchen all the kids scattered again. Everyone else was already waiting. Wanda was shouting to come grab plates because she wasn't going to serve people, while Vision was dishing up those plates and handing them out. Sam was chatting with Ned and Peter and Kate immediately went to join them. Clint, Laura and Natasha were at the table and you, Bucky, and Steve joined them.

 

“Everyone all settled in?” Clint asked. 

 

“More or less,” you replied with a shrug. “A couple boxes left. You guys?”

 

Natasha rolled her eyes, sipping at her wine glass. “Captain ‘up before the ass crack of dawn’ over here had us unpacked by lunch.”

 

Steve put his hands up. “I know, I'm sorry. Old habits die hard.”

 

Natasha winked at him, putting a hand on his leg. “I'm just teasing, stud,” she cooed.

 

“What about you, Hawk?” You asked, smiling as you felt Bucky lock his hand with yours.

 

“Actually,” Clint said, sitting back. “I'll just stay in a guest room when I'm around.”

 

Natasha raised an eyebrow at him. “Hawkeye, are you finally going to hang up the bow? For real?”

 

Clint slowly shook his head. “I'll start by cutting back and see how that goes.”

 

Steve reached over to pat his shoulder. “Good for you, Barton.”

 

You all echoed his sentiments. You gave Clint a bittersweet smile. “I'll miss ya, Hawk. But I'm glad. The kids will be so happy to have you home more.”

 

Laura nodded, turning to give Clint a grin. “We all will.”

 

The night went on with laughter and food. The Stark family showed up eventually. Tony surprisingly let everyone know he was also planning to cut back on field missions. There was discussion of all the big changes for a while and then slowly, the crowd thinned.

 

The Barton family headed home to the farm, Kate in tow. Wanda and Vision picked up sleeping boys and headed back to Jersey. You told Peter you didn't want him driving back in the dark and you set him and Ned up in one of the guest rooms. Steve got a call and said he needed to head to his office for a bit, taking Bucky and Sam with him, but assuring it was nothing to worry about at the moment.

 

You and Natasha were cleaning the kitchen while you waited for them to get back.

 

“How do you feel about Clint leaving?” You asked as she handed you a pan to dry. 

 

Natasha gave you a smile. “I'm happy for him. Really. Nobody's gonna shoot at him in Iowa, so I don't have to worry about him anymore.”

 

You smiled back and nodded. “Yeah, me too. I always worried about his family whenever we were in the field. I'll miss the jackass, I'm sure, but it's a good thing.”

 

You continued to dry dishes quietly in thought for a few moments. “I don't know if I could do it,” you remarked. “I think I would go crazy, feeling like I wasn't being, I don't know, useful? Maybe that's not the word. But I think it would eat me alive, just sitting it out, leaving the world saving to other people.”

 

Natasha just laughed, giving you a sideways look. “When you have kids, you'll change your mind. Clint used to say the same thing. The day Cooper was born, I saw it change, the look in his eyes. You'll see.”

 

You just snickered and gave her a sideways look. “I'm not having kids, Nat. That life's not for me.”

 

“Fair enough,” she replied. “Still, you have Barnes. Maybe you guys will wanna go find a quiet corner and raise an army of cats one day, who knows.”

 

You couldn't help the cackle that escaped your chest. “Yeah, maybe. What about you? I don't suppose the Captain ever thinks about hanging up the shield.”

 

“He does, actually,” Nat said, a distant look in her eyes. “But, much like you, I'm not sure he could live with it. Maybe someday. We'll see.” Nat was draining the sink and rinsing the last dish.

 

“Speaking of someday, when are you and Barnes gonna tie the knot?” She handed you the dish, wiggling her eyebrows with a smirk.

 

“I don't know, Nat, we haven't talked about it much,” you replied with a shrug. “There's no rush. We kinda rushed and did things all out of order already.” You gave her a sheepish smile and she laughed.

 

“Just as long as I get to be there. No running off to elope,” Nat said with a fake seriousness. 

 

“Why, Natasha Romanoff, don't you know you're gonna be my maid of honor?” You grinned at her, putting a hand on your hip. 

 

Natasha froze, staring at you, eyes wide. “Wait- really?!”

 

You just laughed and threw your arms around her. “Of course! Who else would it be?” She hugged you back and you both squealed with excitement. “Besides, I can't imagine he would have anyone but Steve as best man. I can't make him walk around holding somebody else's arm all day. He'd just have his awkward face in all the pictures.”

 

You laughed together again. “Come on, let's make martinis and watch romcoms while we wait for them to come back and hopefully tell us what the hell is going on.”

Notes:

I hate the title of this work. Suggestions??? Also, I don't mind that the summary of currently an except, but I don't know that I love it either. I would love feedback. Cheers!

Chapter 10: Something's Coming

Several martinis later, you and Nat were passed out on the couch while a movie played in the background. Bucky and Steve finally returned to find you both on opposite ends and fast asleep. 

 

Bucky scooped you into his arms. You barely stirred, just rolling your head against his chest. 

 

Steve smiled, kneeling on the floor next to Natasha. “She let you do that without barely moving?” Steve whispered. “I tried that once, but Nat had a knife at my throat in seconds.” Steve gently rubbing Natasha's arm. “I learned my lesson.”

 

Natasha cracked an eye open and saw Steve smiling at her. “You couldn't just let me sleep?” She grumbled. She sat up, eyeing him with a sleepy glare.

 

Steve just stood up and took her hand. “Nope.”

 

Natasha slowly stood, leaning forward to rest her head on Steve's chest with a grumpy huff. Steve rubbed her back with a quiet chuckle. “You can go right back to sleep just as soon as you're in our bed,” he promised. 

 

Natasha tugged him toward the hallway. “Night, Buck,” Steve whispered over his shoulder. Then they disappeared. 

 

Bucky adjusted his hold on you before heading down the hall to your room. He was tucking the comforter around you when you finally did wake up.

 

“Go back to sleep, love,” Bucky whispered, placing a kiss on your forehead. He walked to his own side of the bed, shedding his shirt and pants, and climbed in next to you.

 

You rolled over to face him, blinking the sleep from your vision. “What time is it? Did you just get back?”

 

“It's late, babe, just go back to sleep,” he repeated, resting his hand on your waist, and closing his own eyes. 

 

“Okay,” you said through a yawn, closing yours as well and trying to drift back off.

 

After awhile, being unable to fall back asleep, you gave up. You opened your eyes and looked at Bucky, trying to decide if he was sleeping.

 

“No, I'm not asleep,” he said, eyes still closed.

 

You sighed. “I can't sleep.”

 

“I can see that,” Bucky replied, opening his eyes to assess you. “What's on your mind?”

 

You chewed at your lip. “I don't know, maybe just too much happening today. Can't wind down,” you gave a weak smile.

 

Bucky cocked an eyebrow, skeptical. “If I didn't watch you routinely pass out cold after getting shot at, I might believe you.”

 

You chewed at your lip some more and offered an apologetic look. “Yeah, that's fair.”

 

Bucky sat up, scooting back to rest against the headboard. You followed suit, angling toward him as you sat.

 

“You want to know what we left to talk about.” Bucky stated.

 

You nodded, your eyes darting over his shoulder to the clock on his nightstand. It read 2:17am. “You were gone a long time. It must be important. Why didn't Steve call us all in?”

 

Bucky took a deep breath. You watched him run his hand through his hair, clearly deciding how to respond. 

 

“We don't have all the information right now. We didn't want to involve everyone until we knew more.”

 

You narrowed your eyes a little. “Knew more about what?”

 

“Something is…coming,” he started. “Something big, and we don't really know exactly when. But it has to do with that stone in Vision’s head, the one that gave Wanda her powers.”

 

“The Infinity Stones,” you supplied. “Stephen has one too.”

 

“Yeah, that's what we were talking about. Thor said the others are being guarded, like the Tesseract on Asgard,” Bucky explained.

 

“Wait, Thor and Bruce are back?”

 

“Yeah, that's why Steve pulled us out. Bruce said he wanted to talk to him right away.”

 

You sat up, eyes wide, and felt your mouth fall open. “Wait- so everyone was called in about this but me and Nat?”

 

Bucky shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess. Technically Tony and Clint weren't either.”

 

“Bucky, what the hell? You guys can't just shut us out because we're, what, the women you sleep with? We're a part of this team, just like you,” you were fighting to contain the rage that was threatening to bubble up.

 

Bucky reached out to grab your hand and you fought the urge to pull your hand away. “We didn't want to just call everybody in and ruin your night when we didn't know what was happening. I told Steve we could just call everyone for a briefing later this week, when we know more.”

 

“So Steve wanted to call us in, but you said no?”

 

“No, I just suggested we wait,” he repeated.

 

You stood up, and crossed the room, facing the window. You were fighting to hold your tongue, knowing he meant well, but feeling angry just the same. You took some deep breaths watching the wind in the trees, and tried to will yourself to calm down.

 

Bucky watched you, his brows furrowed in confusion. He wasn't entirely sure why, but you were clearly angry. “Babe, I don't get it, why is this such a big deal?”

 

You let out a heavy breath, steadying yourself before you turning back to face him again. “Because, Bucky, you decided for me. You saw something as potentially upsetting and you made the choice to shield me from it.”

 

You walked back to sit on the bed. Taking another deep breath, determined to choose your words carefully and calmly. One thing that had been an unpleasant hallmark of your last relationship was heated arguments that escalated into hurtful words. It wasn't a habit you wanted to repeat. You and Bucky had never treated each other that way and you didn't want to start now.

 

“I know your heart was in the right place,” you began. “I know you were just protecting me. But, Buck, we talked about this. You can't do that. You can't shield me from harm, in whatever form you see it. A month ago you wouldn't have even considered it.”

 

“That's not true,” Bucky countered. “I always thought about it, always wanted to protect you. I just knew I couldn't, didn't have the right, so I pushed that instinct down.”

 

You tilted your head and offered an understanding nod. “I get it, babe, I really do. It's hard for me to reign it in too. Hell, even with Peter and Kate, I'm always reminding myself to stay back and let them do their jobs or make mistakes or just experience things, even though I just want to shield them from anything that might end up with them getting hurt.”

 

You turned your body, folding a leg under you, leaning toward him a little. “You want to shield me from the bad things. As the man that loves me, that's what your heart is telling you, and that's normal. I'm not faulting you for it. But our situation is unique. You have to let me do my job, and my job is to run toward danger, not away from it. You can't shield me from things like this.”

 

Bucky sat forward resting his elbows on his legs, running a hand down his face. “I know. I'm sorry, doll.”

 

Bucky cocked his head and gave you a crooked smile. “I wonder if Steve is getting the same speech.”

 

You scoffed with a grin. “Yeah, Nat doesn't do much ‘talking it out’. I'm guessing she just decked him.”

 

Bucky laughed a little. “I can't promise I'll never slip up, but I'll try to have a better handle on it “

 

“I can take care of myself, Buck. You don't have to,” you reminded, laying a hand on his arm.

 

“I know I don't have to, baby, but I want to. That's the hard part,” Bucky smiled, putting his hand over yours.

 

You yawned, finally feeling sleep coming for you. You crawled back up the bed and slipped under the covers next to Bucky again. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you tight against his chest. 

 

“Just have my back when the fight inevitably comes, just like you always do. That's all I need,” you said quietly. 

 

Bucky tucked his chin into your shoulder and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I'll always have your back, love. Just like you always have mine."

 

***

 

“Thanos is coming,” Bruce stated, his tone sober.

 

The conference room was quiet, all eyes on him.

 

Until Tony spoke up, of course. “Yeah, I'm sorry, who?”

 

“Thanos. The Mad Titan,” Thor repeated. “He's been searching for the stones, hell-bent on wielding their power. He seeks to bring balance to the universe by using them to destroy half of all life.”

 

“The attack on New York; that was him,” Bruce added. “That was just a gentle knock on the door compared to what he has planned.”

 

“Half of all- wait, what the hell does that even mean?” You asked, wide eyed. 

 

“The Infinity Stones are the most powerful force in the universe. If he had the combined power of all six stones, he would be unstoppable. His goal is to eliminate half of all living things in the universe, allowing room for the remaining to thrive,” Thor explained. 

 

“Well that's… horrifying,” Tony replied with a bleak expression. 

 

There was a beat of silence over the room as each of you tried to comprehend the magnitude of what you were just told.

 

“Alright,” Sam said, clearing his throat. “So what do we do?”

 

“We protect the stones and keep them from his grasp,” Thor responded. 

 

“What if we just, I don't know, blow ‘em up?” Clint suggested.

 

You rolled your eyes and tried to hold in a laugh. You saw Bucky frowning at you, confused. You laughed despite your best efforts.

 

“What, Kes, you got a better idea?” Clint countered with a glare.

 

“No, but I'm guessing you can't just blow up the most powerful objects in the universe,” you said through another chuckle.

 

“She's right, I'm afraid,” Thor confirmed. “The stones cannot easily be eliminated. But hiding them is only a temporary solution.”

 

“Okay, so what's the good news, then?” Steve asked.

 

“Right now the only good news is that only one person knows where the Soul Stone is,” Bruce replied.

 

“And hopefully this person is on our side?” Sam asked. 

 

“Indeed,” Thor affirmed.

 

“But we're still a prime target, even before the whole 'decimation of half the universe' part,” Tony said. “Because of the whole 'two of the stones are here' thing, right?”

 

“Right,” Bruce nodded. “He'll come for them. We don't know when. But we do know he recently decimated a whole planet to gain a stone. We can't expect to stay hidden.”

 

“Am I correct in assuming only the stones can destroy themselves?” Vision spoke up. 

 

Thor nodded. “That's the assumption. No one has ever tried, as far as we know, so it's a theory, at best.”

 

“Then, by extension, theoretically, power that comes from a stone should be able to be wielded against it,” Vision continued. 

 

“Yeah, theoretically, assuming any of the common laws of science or physics or anything at all apply to these things,” Bruce answered. 

 

Wanda turned to her husband. “Vis, what are you thinking?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. 

 

“Unfortunately, my dear, I am thinking that since your powers come from the stone in my head, that, theoretically, you could destroy the stone. If we eliminate one of them, he can never achieve his goal,” Vision replied. 

 

Wanda just stared at him, mind struggling to comprehend the true meaning of his words. “Vision… the stone is a part of you… we can't destroy it without… NO!” Wanda seethed, and you saw tears brimming her eyes.

 

“It's my life or the lives of trillions,” Vision said, calmly. “There's no question what's more important.”

 

“Not to me!” Wanda all but screamed, struggling to keep her voice from cracking.

 

“Vision, I appreciate what you're saying, but it's not an option,” Steve firmly interjected. “We don't trade lives.”

 

“Captain Rogers, I understand your reasoning, but this isn't an average threat. I can't justify putting my life above the lives of half the universe.”

 

Steve gave him an immovable stare. “We'll find another way.” He briefly glanced at Wanda, giving her a tight nod, before turning back to address the whole table. 

 

“I need ideas and suggestions. Ones that don't involve sacrificing our family members,” he said pointedly. “Thor, do we know if he has any idea that the stones are here?”

 

“It's likely he knows at least about the Mind Stone, given Loki’s use of it. Whether he knows about the one with the wizard, I can't say,” Thor replied. 

 

“Master of the Mystic Arts,” you corrected, by force of habit. You grimaced, eyes darting to Bucky at your side.

 

“Ah, yes, apologies,” Thor said with a slight smile. 

 

There was a small wave of chuckles through the room, though muted and brief, given the circumstances.

 

“Sorry, old habits,” you apologized, a weak smile on your face. Bucky put his hand on your knee and you turned to him. He was smiling and you relaxed a little. 

 

“Speaking of which, has anyone spoken to the good doctor?” Tony asked.

 

“We've been trying to reach him all week,” Steve said. “He must be off the grid at the moment.”

 

You groaned, rolling your eyes. “Or he's just ignoring us because, well, he's Stephen,” you said with a sigh. 

 

“I think the first thing we should do is see if it's possible to separate Jarvis Jr here from the rock in his head. Bruce?” Tony stood, clapping. “Let's go to work.”

 

Steve nodded. “Alright. And somebody's gotta get in touch with Strange,” Steve turned to you, an apologetic crease on his brow. “I hate to ask but…”

 

You waved your hand. “Yeah, yeah, I got it. That's on me.”

 

“Everyone, keep brainstorming. We reconvene in a week, or whenever we get a hold of Strange, and see where we're at,” Steve said, ending the meeting.

 

***

 

“I still don't see why you can't just call him,” Bucky said as he watched you open drawers and throw things in a bag. 

 

“Buck, we've been over this,” you reached past him to grab a cosmetics bag off your dresser. “Steve's been calling all week and he isn't answering. It's not a big deal. I'll go to the Sanctum. If he's not there, I'll get Wong to pull him out of whatever dimension he's wallowing in, and I'll bring him back here.”

 

“So let Nat go, or me,” he countered.

 

You stopped what you were doing and fixed him with an incredulous glare. “Stephen won't take Captain America's phone calls, but you think he'll climb out of, I don't know, the mirror dimension, for you, of all people?”

 

Bucky just gave a petulant huff and sat on your bed. “If I pissed him off enough, he might,” he grumbled. 

 

You laughed. “It'll be okay, Bucky. Hopefully he's just holed up at the Sanctum with his phone off and I'll be home tonight.”

 

You walked by him, aiming for your closet, but Bucky reached out and snatched you. He spun you around on to the bed, and pinned you down.

 

“Fine.” He dipped his head to your neck, lips dragging over your skin. When he reached the junction of your shoulder, he placed a sloppy kiss, sucking at the skin. When you shuddered, he bit down, hard and you yelped.

 

“Easy, Buck. I think you drew blood,” you said through a giggle. You felt his lips grinning against your skin and he soothed the mark with his tongue, making you sigh. 

 

“If you're leaving on a wild goose chase, looking for your ex-boyfriend, then you're taking my mark with you,” he said, deep and gravelly, continuing to kiss your neck and shoulder.

 

You started to laugh, but his hands were running up your sides and it quickly turned into a soft moan. His hands brushed over your chest and you arched into his touch, already craving more of him.

 

Bucky smirked at you, making sure your eyes were open and watching, before hooking his fingers into the neckline of your shirt and tearing it down the middle. 

 

“Hey!” You shrieked. But he silenced you with a fierce kiss.

 

His mouth moved against yours, strong and dominating, thrusting his tongue between your lips and sweeping it through your mouth. You moaned into his, hands grabbing his shirt and twisting the fabric, as your legs wrapped around his waist. Bucky slipped his hands behind your back, pulling you into his chest. He nosed your chin up, exposing the column of your throat, and slowly kissed the sensitive skin. You whined, bucking your hips toward his when he nipped at your collarbone. 

 

Bucky chuckled. He let go of you, standing, and pulled his shirt off, throwing it across the room. He paused, watching you. You stared up at him with hooded eyes.

 

“Whatcha waitin’ for, Soldier?” You drawled, trying to pull him back to you with your legs still wrapped around him. 

 

Bucky raised an eyebrow. He reached back and unwrapped your legs. You sat up, raising an eyebrow back at him. 

 

“You done with me already?* You pouted.

 

“Never, doll,” he replied as he reached out and pushed the remains of your shirt off your shoulders.

 

You held his gaze as you stood in front of him. You didn't break eye contact as you undid your jeans and pushed them off, letting your panties go with them. Bucky reached around your back to unclasp your bra and it fell to the floor. His hands came up to caress your skin and you sighed, leaning into his touch. You reached out to grab his belt, but he grabbed your wrist. 

 

He brought it to his lips and gently kissed the inside at your pulse. He guided your hand to rest on his shoulder. You cocked your head, giving him a questioning look.

 

“I told you I'd get on my knees for you, baby,” he said in that dark tone that made you throb, aching for his touch.

 

His eyes held yours as he slowly sank to the floor in front of you, hands tracing your skin as he went. He kissed your lower belly, across to your hips, and down to your thighs. You shuddered under his touches, whimpers and sighs leaving your lips. He held your thighs, gently pushing them further apart, and kissed his way up the inside of each one. Your head fell back with a moan. You felt him smirking against your skin and looked down to see him staring up at your with a wicked grin. 

 

He wrapped his right hand around your leg and lifted it over his shoulder. Your right arm flew back to brace yourself against the bed when his tongue connected with your skin, licking a stripe up your slit. His metal hand came up to grab your hip and hold you steady. His tongue parted your folds, laying flat against your clit, before it started making circles around the bundle of nerves. You let out a loud moan as he sucked at you, tongue dancing and swirling.

 

Your hand tangled in his hair, scratching at his scalp and tugging. He groaned against your center, the vibrations driving you wild. He let go of your leg and inserted two fingers, curling and dragging at your velvet walls, as his tongue continued to work your clit. 

 

You were writhing at his touch, feeling your orgam approaching, and his arm was the only thing keeping you upright. You cried out when he hit your spot with his fingers and bucked your hips into his face.

 

“Bucky…” you moaned. “Baby, I'm so close.”

 

“I know, love,” he mumbled against your clit and the vibrations made you whimper. “Come, baby. Come.” Bucky encouraged. 

 

And you did as you were told, your release coursing through you as you called his name. His tongue worked you through the high and back down. When he heard your breathing slow, he took your leg off his shoulder and set it back on the ground.

 

He stood up again, hovering over you. You reached up and wound your arms around his neck, pulling his lips down to meet yours. You hummed against his mouth. 

 

“You can get on your knees for me anytime, babe,” you whispered. “How ‘bout I return the favor?”

 

Bucky kissed you deep and slow. “Next time, doll,” he whispered back. “Right now, I just wanna be inside you.”

 

You bit your lip, reaching out to grab his belt and work his jeans off. A moment later, he was free, and you were stroking his hard, pulsing cock. Bucky groaned, dropping his head to your shoulder as his hands snaked around you, grabbing your ass and squeezing.

 

“Goddamn, that feels good, baby,” he hissed against your skin. “But I told you, I gotta be inside you.”

 

His hands dropped to grab your thighs and then he was picking you up, setting you back on the bed, head pressed up into the pillows. He followed, settling between your thighs.

 

He dipped down to kiss you and at the same time, pushed into you, up to the hilt in one thrust. Drawing a moan from your lips and you arched your back, body rising up to meet his. 

 

He pulled back to thrust into you again, setting a steady pace. He peppered you with kisses, humming against your skin as you rolled your hips up to meet his. 

 

“Marry me, baby,” he breathed, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck, watching your face as you inched closer toward your climax. 

 

“I think I already said I would,” you breathlessly replied as he fucked you into the mattress.

 

“I mean now. No more waiting. I want you to be my wife,” he rasped against your throat, licking and sucking at the skin.

 

You couldn't form words as your orgasm fast approached. You just moaned and whined, letting him unravel you. His hips stuttered and rolled and you knew he was right there with you. A moment later, you were both coming, clinging to one another as you flew apart.

 

His hips halted and you tried to catch your breath, clutching his shoulders. His head rested against your chest and you felt his hot breath fanning over your skin. 

 

“I mean it, love. Let's get married,” he whispered. 

 

You just focused on breathing and he rolled off you laying on his side.

 

“Bucky, I wanna marry you,” you assured him. “But that's not enough time to plan things. Especially not with everything going on.”

 

He propped up on his elbow, giving you a serious look. “That's exactly why we should,” he countered. “Who knows how long we have. Who knows what's even going to happen.”

 

Bucky reached out to caress your cheek, his eyes pleading. “We might not win this fight, doll. That's the reality. I don't wanna waste anymore time. Please. Marry me.”

 

You couldn't help the tears that pricked at your eyes with his overwhelming sincerity. He was right. You might not have much time left. Why wait? 

 

You bit your lip and smiled. “Alright. Next week. Let's get married.”

 

Bucky beamed, tackling you into the bed once more, covering you in kisses as you giggled.

 

“I love you,” he whispered against your chest in-between soft kisses.

 

“I sure hope so, because I wouldn't change my name for just anyone,” you replied, running a hand through his hair.

 

Bucky snapped his head up to look at you, a dopey looking grin spreading on his face. “Really? You're gonna take my name?”

 

You giggled at the look on his face, which, of course, was exactly why you had decided to do it. You knew it would make him happy. “Only for you, Soldier. I knew it would make that 1940s heart of yours skip a beat.”

 

Bucky crashed his lips to yours, kissing you with abandon. “It does, doll. I can't wait for you to be my wife,” he breathlessly whispered, resting his forehead on yours. 

 

“Neither can I. I love you, Bucky,” you breathed back.

 

***

 

You stood at the kitchen counter, hands moving over the espresso machine as you made yourself some caffeine for the road.

 

“Friday, where's Na-” but you couldn't finish your question, because as you turned around, mug in hand, you collided with a solid wall of muscle. 

 

The scalding liquid sloshed out, soaking both of your shirts and you let out a short shriek as it scorched your skin. 

 

“Jeez, Steve, how does someone so big move so silently?!” You set the mug down and quickly yanked off your shirt as you darted to the sink and turned on the cold tap. You grabbed a towel, soaked it with the cool water, and pressed it to the red splotch spreading over your chest.

 

“I'm so sorry,” Steve sputtered, grabbing a towel himself and trying to clean up the liquid that was, well, everywhere.

 

“Your skin probably looks just like mine, you better get some cold water on it,” you said, gesturing to his chest covered in a wide stain of espresso.

 

Steve nodded, quickly undoing the buttons on his shirt. You held out a second cold water soaked towel, pressing it to the equally red splotch on his chest. You just looked at him, eyes darting between his own the towel you pressed to his chest. He did the same.

 

And you both burst out laughing.

 

A voice broke through your laughing fit and both of you turned to look. Natasha was standing in the doorway, arms crossed, hip jutted out, an eyebrow arched, as she took in the scene. 

 

“Well, this is interesting,” she remarked, an amused smile tugging at her lips. “I'm not sure whether to take a picture for blackmail, or assume the worst and stab you both.”

 

“Who are we stabbing?” A second voice called from around the corner. You watched Bucky walk in and come to a halt when his eyes landed on you and Steve, jaw slacking.

 

You and Steve looked at each other again, and a split second later, erupted into peels of laughter once more.

 

“Nevermind, I'll just drive thru for coffee,” you said as you shook your head. You stepped back, setting the towels on the counter, clutching your ruined shirt. “Did you need something before I go, Cap, or did you just think it would be funny to sneak up on me holding hot coffee?”

 

Steve shook his head, still quietly laughing. “Uh, no, I just wanted to see when you were headed out. Safe travels.”

 

You gave him a thin smile. “Alrighty,” you said, patting his shoulder. “This was fun and sufficiently awkward. Let's do it again sometime.”

 

You walked across the room to Bucky, who was still just watching, wide eyed and confused. Natasha was quietly laughing to herself.

 

“You should go to medical and get that burn looked at,” Natasha suggested. “Both of you,” she added with a chuckle. 

 

“I'll be fine,” Steve said. He shrugged his shirt off and wiped more coffee off his neck. 

 

You stopped in front of Bucky and smiled, reaching out to place a hand on his chest. You leaned in to kiss his cheek. He blinked and turned to face you.

 

“You okay, Buck?” You asked, smirking.

 

Bucky nodded slowly, eyes sweeping over your shirtless upper body. “I'm fine… what-”

 

“Ask Captain ‘I should wear a bell’ Rogers,” you said, continuing toward the door. “I really gotta go, babe. And I have to change now,” you gave Steve a pointed sideways look.

 

You hurriedly made for the doorway, needing to get on the road. Words could not describe how much you loathed sitting in rush hour traffic. 

 

“Wait, why did Friday say you called me down here?” Natasha raised an eyebrow at you. “Even as smart as she is, I doubt she was trying to get me to catch you and Steve in the act.”

 

“Sorry, but I really gotta go. Bucky will have to fill you in. Also, maybe you and him can start making plans while I'm away? ‘Kay, bye!” you called back over your shoulder as you jogged down the hall.

 

Natasha turned to look at Bucky, brows furrowed, tilting her head. “Plans?”

 

Bucky’s lips turned up in a wide grin. “She didn't tell you? We're getting married next week.”

Chapter 11: Making Plans

It was after dark and starting to drizzle by the time you were finally standing on Bleecker Street ringing a bell. Several seconds ticked by with no response. You lifted your hand in a fist and swung to knock on the door, but your hand swept through the air, connecting with nothing and you found yourself no longer on the street, but indoors. You looked around, disoriented, noting a crackling fireplace and walls lined with books. You lifted your head and saw Stephen sitting in an armchair. 

 

“Tea?” He held out a cup in your direction.

 

You walked to him, eyes rolling, and took the offered cup. “I do wish you wouldn't do that. It makes me dizzy.”

 

Stephen fought the grin tugging at his lips as he watched you sit in the chair adjacent to him. You settled against the chair, glancing at your shoulder. “I could have sworn I had a bag… and a coat.”

 

“Guestroom,” Stephen replied with a half smile. 

 

You cocked an eyebrow. “Bold of you to assume I'm staying.”

 

“No, bold would have been assuming you were here under less virtuous pretenses and putting your things in my room,” Stephen countered with a cocky grin.

 

“Stephen,” you chided, shooting him a warning look. 

 

“I'm well aware you're here because I've been ignoring Rogers’, no need for lectures,” Stephen said, raising a hand to stop whatever he assumed you would say next. 

 

You sighed, setting your cup down. “Then I assume you know why he's been calling, so you want to tell me what's going on?” You crossed your arms, but immediately grimaced as the gesture put uncomfortable pressure on the still freshly burned skin of your chest.

 

Stephen furrowed his brow, concern immediately coloring his features. “I know that look. What hurts?” He asked as he set down his own cup and sat forward in his chair, closer to you. 

 

“It's fine, it's nothing,” you said with a dismissive wave of your hand. 

 

“That's not nothing,” he countered, pointing at the edge of a deep red welt just peeking out above the neckline of your sweater.

 

Before you could object, he was kneeling in front of you, pulling back the fabric and examining the burn. He gently pressed in a couple spots and you hissed, reflexively pulling away. Stephen looked up at you, eyes questioning and you knew what he was thinking. 

 

“The answer is no, Stephen. I should slap you for even thinking it,” you said before he could open his mouth. 

 

“You don't know what I was thinking,” he objected. “I was just going to ask what happened.”

 

“No, you were going to ask if he did this when you know damn well he would never hurt me,” you retorted.

 

“Not physically, anyway,” Stephen couldn't help pointing out. “And I wasn't going to ask. I may have thought it, but I wasn't going to ask.”

 

You rolled your eyes. “I forgot how much fun it is to argue with you.” You gave him a sarcastic smile. “The only thing to blame for this is an Americano and bad timing.”

 

Stephen stood and grabbed his sling ring out of his pocket. “Well, I can't treat you here, so come on,” he beckoned you through the portal he had just opened and it shut behind you once you were both through. 

 

You looked around, surmising you were in an examination room at his hospital. Stephen was grabbing things from cupboards and drawers. You took a seat on the exam bed while you waited. He eventually turned to you, pulling over a tray of supplies, and pausing to grab gloves. 

 

“I can't see through the sweater,” he calmly remarked as he put the gloves on.

 

You huffed, your look unamused, but you reached down and pulled the sweater up and over your head, setting it beside you on the bed. Stephen smiled. He grabbed things in succession from the tray and began cleaning and examining your wound.

 

“Just like old times,” he remarked with a quiet chuckle. “This is better than bullet wounds, though. Less messy.”

 

“Hurts a hell of a lot less too,” you agreed.

 

There was a few beats of silence while he worked before you decided to get back to your reason for coming to him.

 

“So, now you wanna tell me why you're ducking Captain America's calls?” You raised your eyebrows and fixed him with a pointed stare.

 

Stephen sighed, turning to the tray to grab an ointment and cotton swab, before turning back with a very somber look in his eyes. “It's my obligation to protect the stone. I was looking for a way.”

 

He began gingerly applying the ointment to your burn, avoiding eye contact, which didn't go unnoticed. 

 

“I'm guessing you didn't find a way,” you stated, watching as he grabbed gauze and dressed your wound.

 

“I looked at possible futures for days, saw hundreds of millions of possibilities,” he stepped back, peeling off his gloves and tossing them in a bin. He turned to lean against the counter. “Out of all of them, there was only one where we were successful.”

 

You looked at him confused. “That's a good thing, isn't it? We only need one. That's all it takes.”

 

You watched him grapple with his next words, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck. There was a grimness etched into his face that you didn't think you'd seen before. 

 

“We would win, in the end,” he began. “But the cost… the cost would be… staggering.” He straightened, shaking his head, and crossed the room to stand near you again. “I can't say anything else. Anything I reveal risks altering the outcome. I'm sorry.”

 

You studied his face for a moment as you took in the gravity of his words. The weight of knowing you would need to lose to win was hard to carry, but it was always something you held room for as an Avenger. This wasn't a shocking idea. 

 

“When you say cost, do you mean to everyone, like the universe in general, or do you mean to us specifically?” You cautiously asked. 

 

Stephen twisted his lip, his eyes pleading that you not ask. “I can't tell you that. If I tell you it won't happen.”

 

You nodded, trying not to be irritated with the cryptic responses. Somewhere in your mind, you knew he was right, but all you felt was a cold pit in your stomach as your mind swam with all the possibilities that the word “cost” could include. You hopped off the table and tugged your sweater back over your head.

 

“We need to get back to the compound and fill Steve in. If you can't tell us what to do, you can at least be there to redirect and keep us on the right path,” you stood, waiting for him to reopen the portal back to the Sanctum.

 

“I'll speak with Rogers, I promise.”

 

Stephen swung his hands through the air and a ring of orange sparks appeared. The room on the other side, however, wasn't what you were expecting. It was the common room of the compound. 

 

You gave him a confused frown. “I drove, Stephen. My car's parked outside the Sanctum. And my bag is still there.”

 

Stephen chuckled. “I'll drive it up to you tomorrow. But I think he's looking for you,” Stephen gestured through the portal and you saw Bucky standing from his spot on the couch, walking toward you.

 

He stopped at the threshold, crossing his arms. “Strange,” he nodded curtly to Stephen. 

 

“Always a pleasure, Barnes,” Stephen replied coolly.

 

You stepped through the portal and stood at Bucky's side. “I'll tell Steve you'll be here tomorrow. Goodnight, Stephen.”

 

Stephen gave you a sad smile before sweeping his hand and closing the portal.

 

“Hey, doll,” Bucky said, turning to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you close.

 

You offered a wry smile. “And what exactly did you threaten him with to get him to portal me back here in such a hurry?”

 

Bucky smirked at you. “Nothing, doll, honest.”

 

“Mhm,” you hummed, reaching up to wind your arms around his neck. “Because Dr Strange is well known for altruistically doing the opposite of what he wants to accommodate you, of all people.”

 

Bucky laughed. “Alright, fine,” he conceded. “I may have mentioned that we had a lot to accomplish, seeing how we're getting married in 7 days.”

 

You groaned. “Buck, that wasn't exactly nice. You should have let me be the one to tell him.”

 

“I missed you,” he pouted. “I didn't want to spend the night alone.” Bucky ducked to kiss your jaw. “And I told him I love you and that I was sorry that he and I never got along, but for your sake, I was willing to bury the hatchet, if he was.”

 

You stared at him, wide eyed and shocked. “Bucky, you really told him that?”

 

“Yeah, babe. I did,” Bucky affirmed with a soft smile. 

 

You gave him a sincerely grateful look. “Thank you, Buck. That means a lot. I appreciate it.”

 

He offered you a crooked smile and leaned in to press a kiss to your lips. “Anytime, doll.”

 

You looked over his shoulder at the clock on the stove. “Oh, it's not nearly as late as I thought it was,” you remarked. 

 

“Nope, which is convenient because we've got work to do,” Tony announced as he strode into the room. He passed you to take a seat.

 

You let go of Bucky and followed, sitting opposite him on the couch and you saw Bucky do the same. 

 

“Has there been a development?” You asked, propping your elbows on your knees. 

 

Tony crossed his legs and gave you an incredulous look. “Yeah, you two lovestruck teenagers decided to tie the knot, shotgun style, and now I gotta throw together a wedding in record breaking time.”

 

You blinked at him for a moment, then fell back against the couch, laughing, dragging a hand down your face. “Tony, I thought something important had come up with the stones!”

 

You shook your head as your laughter died down. “I've seen you plan red carpet galas in less time than this, you freaking diva,” you shot back. 

 

Tony gave you a wounded stare, hand to his heart. “Those are just simple trained monkey exhibitions, not a wedding! I need time to pull out all the stops.”

 

“We're not looking for an extravagant event you can see from space, Stark,” Bucky interjected. “Something simple with our family is more than enough.”

 

Tony gave him a blank expression. “Well aren't you full of party cheer,” he deadpanned.

 

You watched his expression become thoughtful and practically saw the wheels turning as a surprised look came over his face. “Wait you're not-” his eyes darted back and forth between the two of you. “Oh my God, his super soldier super swimmers got to you; you're pregnant.”

 

“Tony, what the fuck!,” you practically shrieked, peeling into more laughter. You glanced at Bucky and saw him cackling right along with you. “Oh my good God, please don't ever say that again,” you said practically gagging.

 

“No, she is not pregnant,” Bucky said firmly, though mildly undercut by scoffing laughter. “‘Super swimmers’, Jesus Christ,” he mumbled, shaking his head. 

 

“Oh, what did I miss?” Natasha asked as she took a seat in another chair. 

 

Tony immediately turned to her, poised to recap. But you held out a hand and cut him off.

 

“Uh uh, no way,” you demanded. “We're not repeating that. Tony came by to help us plan the wedding.”

 

Natasha pursed her lips in annoyance, but chose to let it go. “Right. Well, where have we gotten so far?”

 

“So far, we've established that YN isn't pregnant and that Tony is angry about his time constraints,” Bucky replied.

 

Natasha nodded. “Sounds about right.” She turned her attention to you. “What do you guys want to do? Because we can just do something simple right here at the compound. There's plenty of space. But I'm sure the billionaire here has plenty of connections if you wanted something like a fancy venue in the city. What do you think?”

 

“I've never been one for fancy indoor spaces,” you said. “What do you think, Buck? It's your wedding too.” You gave him a soft smile.

 

“The last time I even thought about the concept of a wedding was before the war, doll. I have basically no opinions on it,” he replied, sitting back and propping his left leg on his knee. “I'm just along for the ride. So long as you're the one walking toward me down that aisle, I don't care about the rest.”

 

He gave you a crooked smile and you knew you were blushing just a little.

 

“Aw, that's adorable. The tin man has a heart,” Natasha cooed with a strong undertone of snark.

 

Bucky didn't respond, just raised an eyebrow and flipped her off. 

 

“Hey, I understood that reference,” Steve said, coming to sit down next to Bucky.

 

You gave Steve a smile. “Well somebody better get Sam in here or he'll get his feelings hurt, thinking he was left out. Friday?”

 

“Yes, Agent YLN,” Friday replied. 

 

“Oh, and Bruce. Not that I think his feelings will be hurt, but it makes me feel bad when he's left out,” you added. “Nobody else is on property at the moment, right?”

 

“Agent Barton and Miss Bishop are in the hangar,” Friday answered.

 

“Well, send ‘em over.”

 

“It'll be like a mission brief, only nobody will get irritated with Steve,” Bucky laughed. 

 

“Thanks, buddy,” Steve sarcastically replied with an elbow to his best friend's side. 

 

“Alright, Hawklet, what do you want to do? Don't think just answer-go,” Tony said. 

 

“I wanna get married on a mountain top in the Cascades,” you immediately replied without hesitation. You cocked your head and raised your eyebrows in surprise. “Huh, that really works.”

 

“Well, I could've told you that,” Bucky said with a warm smile.

 

“You could?” You asked, turning to him.

 

Bucky just chuckled. “Baby, our room is practically wallpapered in paintings of those mountains. There's a sign on the shelf in the bathroom that says ‘I left my heart in Oregon’. It wasn't hard to figure out.”

 

“He's right. I put that sign up,” Kate concurred as she and Clint entered the room. She paused to hug you before sitting on the floor by the fireplace. 

 

“Hey, Kes,” Clint stopped to kiss your head before continuing on to take up half of Natasha's chair as she scooted over. She set her feet in his lap once he sat down and Clint gave her a look full of fake annoyance.

 

“Don't you have someone else for foot rub duty now?” Clint asked, arching an eyebrow and nodding his head toward Steve.

 

Natasha pouted. “But he's not as good at it,” she complained. “Sorry, hun, but it's true.” She gave Steve an apologetic look. 

 

Steve put his hands up disarmingly. “No argument here. Must be those precision archer fingers, Barton.”

 

Clint groaned, but grabbed one of Natasha's feet and started massaging. Natasha relaxed into the chair, smiling.

 

“Okay, back to the matter at hand,” Tony redirected. “Mountain top. Cascades. Pacific Northwest. Excellent. There shouldn't be many fires yet and the snow should be melting.”

 

“Yeah, but that's like 3000 miles away. Isn't that super impractical?” You countered. “Maybe we should do what Nat suggested and just have it here. I don't want to put anyone out.”

 

“That's what quinjets are for,” Tony said with a grin.

 

Bruce had walked in and taken a seat while you and Tony debated. Tony turned to him.

 

“Thoughts, Dr Banner?” Tony asked. 

 

“On the Pacific Northwest? Yeah, it's lovely, I'm told. Haven't seen it myself.”

 

“I've only seen bits and pieces on missions and it's not like you're stopping to admire the scenery,” Nat added. Clint nodded in agreement.

 

“I've really only seen Europe, and it was mostly exploding at the time,” Steve added. 

 

“Theoretically, I've been everywhere, but it was certainly never to appreciate the landscape,” Bucky said with a grimace.

 

“I'm so confused; are we just sharing stories about traveling?” Kate asked. “Because that's cool, but I'm hungry, so…”

 

“Oh, jeez, right, sorry,” you said. “We're getting married next week,” you gestured between you and Bucky. “Welcome to the planning committee.”

 

“What?!” You all heard a bellow from the other end of the room and all eyes turned toward the sound.

 

You watched Sam walk in, hands on his hips, just staring between you and Bucky with an accusatory frown. You saw the look on his face and knew where his mind was headed. But before he could voice the thought, Clint beat him to the punch. 

 

“You jackass, you knocked her up?!” Clint shouted. You watched rage flash in his eyes and Natasha held him firmly against the chair, which you were grateful for. 

 

“NO,” you firmly and loudly replied. “For the last time, I'm not pregnant, and even if I was, it's not 1953. We wouldn't need to quickly get married, lest I be branded the town floozy.”

 

Quiet chuckles cascaded over the room.

 

“So it's settled. I'll take care of the rest. Except attire, I'm not going to presume on that front or it'll be nothing but complaints from the wedding party, I'm sure,” Tony established. “Nat, you guys figure that out. You know all my usual contacts.”

 

Tony stood and gave a short wave. “Now I gotta get home before Morgan gets into the garage again. Girl's too much like me, unfortunately. Night, avenging family,” he called as he left.

 

Sam, who had previously been holding up the wall came forward and took Tony's chair. Kate jumped up and headed to the kitchen.

 

“I need a sandwich,” she called. “But I wanna help pick colors.”

 

“If you're making sandwiches, I'll take one,” Sam said with a grin. 

 

Kate narrowed her eyes at him. “I don't recall offering,” she sighed. “But, fine.”

 

Sam laughed. “Better make one for the hawk too. He seems like he might be hangry,” Sam added, giving Clint side eye. “I thought he was gonna jump up and knock your teeth out for a minute, Buck.”

 

“So did I,” Bucky concurred, giving Clint a look that was something between accusatory and confounded.

 

Clint just shrugged. “I warned you the day you got engaged that if you fucked up, I'd put you through a meat grinder.”

 

You turned to him with just the hint of a pout on your face. “Clint, is that any way to speak to the father of my child?”

 

You watched Clint's jaw tick in irritation and tried not to laugh. “Very funny, Kes.” He scooped Natasha's legs out of the way and got up to head to the kitchen where Kate slid a plate to him across the counter with a smile.

 

You bit back a laugh when Steve got up and took Clint's spot, lifting Natasha off the chair and setting her in his lap instead. She looked up at him with a barely noticeable roll of her eyes, and pecked his cheek.

 

Bruce stood and declared that he needed to get back to the lab. You thanked him for being there and Kate handed him a sandwich before he left, which you were grateful for because you often wondered if he did things like pause to eat when he was working on a project. 

 

“I have a favor to ask, Sammy,” you said as you slid over to rest against Bucky's side and tucked your legs up under you. 

 

“If you wanted me to take him out, you shoulda asked before you agreed to marry him,” Sam replied with a smirk.

 

You felt Bucky's arm move and you knew he was flipping Sam off behind your head. Sam cackled.

 

“I think you'd have to get in line for that privilege,” you replied sarcastically. “Behind him,” you gestured toward the kitchen and the archer that was munching at the island. “And the magician- oh, speaking of which; Steve, Strange said he'll be here tomorrow.”

 

“Good,” Steve replied. “Maybe we can get somewhere.”

 

You decided it would be best to leave it and let Stephen explain. No sense arguing about it now and bringing down the mood. 

 

“Anyways, Sam, can I put you in charge of finding attire for the guys? No offense, love, but if you show up to our wedding in combat boots, I'll refuse to say ‘I do’,” you snickered into Bucky's side as he reached down and grabbed your waist. 

 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, doll. I think I could still convince you,” he replied, raising an eyebrow. 

 

“Don't worry, I'll make sure he looks presentable,” Sam assured. “Which ‘guys’, exactly? Other than the groom himself, obviously.”

 

“I assumed you and Steve, but I guess that's up to him,” you lightly poked Bucky's side. “And I was hoping you wouldn't mind including Peter.”

 

Bucky nodded with a playful grin directed at Sam. “Of course. He can just replace Sam.”

 

“What the hell, Winter Jackass, why you gotta come for me?” Sam cried. 

 

“You'll notice she didn't include me at all, so count yourself lucky,” Clint shouted from the kitchen island. “Kids these days,” he muttered with a mock shake of his head through a smile.

 

“That's because you're gonna walk me down the aisle, Hawk,” you responded, pointedly. “Who's the jackass now?” You turned to stare at him over the back of the couch, an eyebrow raised in question.

 

“Kes, I’d be honored. Truly,” he said much more quietly, giving you a sincere smile. 

 

“Alright, now we need to worry about your dress, and the rest of the girls, which are…?” Nat asked. 

 

“You, obviously, her,” you pointed to Kate. “And Wanda. Oh shit, somebody call Wanda. And Peter. Shit, Tony was right, this is a lot to think about very quickly,” you remarked. 

 

“Friday, take notes, please,” you called to the ever present AI. “Alright, let's get this sorted out.”

 

Friday tied Peter and Wanda in via video and the night was spent in a flurry of decisions about dresses and ties and colors and flowers, until eventually half the room was asleep in their chairs. The remnants of snacks and glasses and plates littering the space.

 

You had an odd sense of accomplishment as you stretched and sat up, deciding it was time to actually get in bed. 

 

“You want me to carry you, love,” Bucky offered as he stood. 

 

You shook your head. “I'm alright.” You nodded toward Kate who was fast asleep sprawled sideways on an armchair. “But I don't want to leave her there. She'll wake up with a sore neck.”

 

Bucky nodded, turning with the intent to pick Kate up instead.

 

“It's okay, Barnes, I got her,” Clint said as he walked past and scooped Kate out of the chair.

 

“Night, Kes,” Clint whispered as he stopped to kiss your temple. “Love you, kid. Night, Barnes.” He carried Kate down the hall and out of sight. 

 

Bucky moved to the nearest chair and lightly shook Sam's shoulder. “Come on, buddy,” Bucky encouraged as Sam slowly opened his eyes. “I'm not carrying you. Get your ass to bed.”

 

“Love you too, Buck,” Sam grumbled as he got to his feet.

 

You all shuffled down the hall to your respective rooms.

 

“Night, Sammy,” you said, giving him a tired hug. “Thanks for all your help.”

 

“Yep,” Sam said with a yawn. “Night, guys.”

 

You and Bucky crawled into bed. You were half asleep, quickly slipping away when you felt him lean over you and kiss your cheek. 

 

“Goodnight, almost Mrs Barnes,” he whispered.

Chapter 12: I Do

The next several days were more or less a blur. There was shopping for dresses and suits and suddenly the common room became a staging area for the upcoming event. Peter came up to stay for a few days. Tony, true to his word, had taken care of all the details and said all you had to do was get dressed and show up. 

 

Stephen brought back your car and told Steve the same thing he had told you. Everything that could be done was being done. Now we just had to stay prepared and wait. Tony and Bruce were still working on a way to separate Vision from the stone. Bucky suggested they contact the Wakandans. Tony decided once the wedding was over, that would be the next step.

 

You were in the kitchen, dodging boxes and floral arrangements, once again trying to make yourself an Americano, frayed nerves be damned. Tomorrow was the big day. You stared at the kettle taking a moment to breathe and zone out.

 

“You okay?” Stephen was standing on the other side of the kitchen island.

 

You glanced over your shoulder at him and smiled. “I'm fine. Just thinking about what still needs to be accomplished.”

 

Stephen took a seat on a stool and watched you pour the water into your espresso then round the island and sit next to him.

 

“What brings you up here again? Did Steve call you in?” You asked, sipping at your mug. 

 

“I'm helping with transportation for tomorrow,” he replied, lifting his hand and wiggling his fingers around his sling ring. “Seemed much more practical than multiple quinjets and transcontinental flights.”

 

You stared at him wide-eyed. “I didn't ask you to do that- did I? This week has been a complete blur.”

 

Stephen tilted his head with a small smile. “No, your fiance asked. Even thanked me… and smiled, well, more like didn't glower, but still.”

 

“Stephen, that's- I can't thank you enough. Really. I'm really glad you'll be there. I would have understood if you had decided not to come,” you told him, offering a genuine smile of appreciation. 

 

Stephen reached out and put a hand on your arm. “I'm just glad you're happy. I mean that. Just be happy with him, for as long as you can,” you saw his eyes get watery and watched as he swallowed and cleared his throat.

 

You set down your mug and put a hand on top of his, wishing you could make him feel better and knowing that was beyond your grasp. “I'm still sorry you ended up hurt. I want to see you happy too.”

 

Stephen smiled and you thought you saw him blink back tears, but he quickly recovered. He pulled his hand away and stood. “I am happy, don't worry. I'll be fine.”

 

You didn't know if he was lying, but you smiled nonetheless, and turned on the stool to see Peter coming in the room.

 

“Hi, bug,” you said. “Time to go?”

 

“I'm gonna help Dr Strange get the rest of this stuff over to the- I don't know what to call it, site? Venue? Unmarked place where we're having a wedding?” Peter replied. “Well, anyway, we're taking this,” he gestured to the various boxes and things around you. “And I think the rest of the guys will come over in a bit.”

 

“Okay, well, I'll say goodnight, then,” you said, standing and pulling Peter into a bear hug. “See you tomorrow, bug. I love you.”

 

“Love you too, auntie,” Peter said, squeezing you back. “I'll make sure Uncle Bucky gets there in one piece.”

 

You laughed. Peter bounced off to pick up an object that should be too heavy for his frame, and stepped through the portal that Stephen had opened at the other end of the room.

 

You turned back to Stephen as he was also picking up a box and heading to the portal. 

 

“Please do me a favor and look after him,” you called to Stephen. “Bucky's got enough to think about tonight. I know I shouldn't worry, but I do.”

 

Stephen nodded and smiled. “I'm sure he'll be fine, but, yes, I'll keep an eye on him.” Stephen stepped through the portal and it closed.

 

You headed back to your room and found Bucky shoving things into a duffel. You crossed the room and sat on the couch, curling up and sipping at your coffee. 

 

“Is that going to be enough for a whole week?” You eyed the bag skeptically. 

 

Bucky shrugged continuing around the room grabbing objects and clothing and tossing them in the bag. “I'm sure it's fine,” he replied.

 

You watched him throw a toothbrush in and then zip up the bag. He stood back, hands on his hips and took a breath. 

 

“Guess that's it,” he declared. “Steve and Sam are probably waiting for me,” he cocked his head, watching you from across the room. “But they can wait a bit longer.”

 

He stalked over to you, kneeling on the couch and took your mug, setting it on the coffee table. Grabbing your waist, he pressed you back, guiding your body to lay on the cushion, and he hovered above you. You giggled when his stubble tickled your neck and his lips ghosted across your skin. 

 

“Bucky…” you breathed, trying to wriggle out from under him.

 

He smiled against your throat, laying his lips on you and slowly kissing upward. He paused when he reached your lips, pulling back to look at you with dark eyes and a crooked grin. “Did you need somethin’, doll?”

 

He grinned wider when you tried to respond, but he silenced you with a deep, slow kiss. You tried to stifle the quiet whimper that crossed your lips when he pulled away. You heard him let out a dark chuckle.

 

You put your palms on his chest, pressing gently. “Not tonight, Buck,” you said, pushing harder on his chest.

 

Bucky looked down at you, sticking his lip out just a little, a sad look in his eyes. “You were serious about that?”

 

You just laughed, sitting up and reaching over to cup his face in your hands. “You can live for one night. I've seen you go much longer,” you replied, giving him a knowing smirk. You pulled his face closer and kissed him, soft and sweet. 

 

Bucky grabbed your hips and put you in his lap. “That was before.” He ran his hands up your spine and you involuntarily shivered. 

 

“Before, what, Buck? Before you managed to charm the girl next door so getting laid was constantly and easily accessible?” You giggled at the offended look on his face. “I think going without will do us some good. Makes you appreciate what you have.”

 

Bucky just shook his head, clearly disagreeing. “I do appreciate it, I can show you how much I appreciate it,” he offered, pressing his hips up into yours making you gasp.

 

“Tomorrow,” you reiterated, standing your ground and climbing off of him. “Tomorrow you can appreciate me all night long,” you promised. You stood from the couch and he followed. You rocked onto the balls of your feet and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

 

He sighed, defeated, and pulled you close. “Goodnight, love,” he whispered before pressing a reverent kiss to your lips. “I'm gonna hold you to that promise.”

 

“Oh, I don't doubt it,” you replied, patting his chest. “Now, get out of here. It's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding.”

 

Bucky raised an eyebrow, but grabbed his bag and headed to the door. He paused and turned to give you one more smile. 

 

“I love you,” he said as he stepped through the door.

 

“I love you, too,” you replied as he left. 

 

You sighed once he was gone. You realized you were hardly ever without him, even before you had gotten together, and it was eerily quiet. You had Friday play some music and got to work packing your own bag.

 

Your phone dinged and you checked it. Peter sent a pic of all the guys around a big campfire. You smiled and replied that you were happy to see he was enjoying himself.

 

“Knock, knock,” Natasha said, standing in the doorway. “You all packed?” She asked as she watched you zip up your suitcase.

 

“Yep,” you replied. You turned and sat on the bed with a sigh. “Now to get a nice long night of restless tossing and turning.” You gave her a nervous smile. 

 

“Well, we can't have that,” Kate said, poking her head through the door next to Nat.

 

“Come on,” Natasha beckoned you toward them.

 

You followed them back into the common area where Wanda was lining up shots on the island. She smiled when you sat down and slid one over to you.

 

“Guys, I don't want to be hungover for my wedding,” you cautioned. “Oof, Clint would have a field day with that.”

 

“We're not going overboard, just a little so you relax and get some sleep tonight,” Natasha assured you.

 

Natasha raised her shot glass and the rest of you followed suit. “Here's to you and Barnes. Thank you for volunteering to put up with him so the rest of us don't have to.”

 

Natasha snickered and Wanda gave her an unimpressed look. Kate just looked confused. 

 

“We're happy for you,” Wanda said with a warm smile. 

 

“To forever with your best friend,” Kate said.

 

You all agreed and threw back your shots. Kate made a face and there was collective laughter.

 

Wanda refilled everyone's glasses and you knocked back the second shot.

 

“Ugh, why am I so nervous?” You slumped back in your chair. “It doesn't really make sense. We already spend all our time together. We have for years. Does wearing a ring suddenly make everything different?”

 

Wanda gave you a sympathetic smile. “In some ways, and in others, no. It's hard to know until you get there.”

 

“Were you nervous?” You asked her, watching her face become thoughtful. “Not really, but that's not a fair assessment. We kinda just sat on the couch one day and decided. I conjured us some rings and that was it. There was no time for nerves.”

 

“Not that I can relate, but I can imagine that if it was my wedding, I would definitely be super nervous,” Kate offered. “It's a big deal. It's normal. It's definitely not an indication that you're making the wrong decision, if that's what you're worrying about.”

 

You tilted your head thoughtfully. “No, I don't think that's what's happening. I haven't really felt any doubts about it. I guess it's probably just the whole ‘all eyes on you’ thing. Being the center of attention. I don't love it.”

 

Wanda reached out and squeezed your hand reassuringly. “Just keep your eyes on James. Let everything else fade away.”

 

“Good advice,” you agreed with a smile. “Just hope my legs don't give out on my way to him.”

 

“Clint will hold you up, don't worry,” Nat said, patting your shoulder.

 

***

 

The morning arrived quickly and you were thankful to realize you had indeed managed to sleep. The girls woke you with laughter and mimosas. You were ushered about, everyone getting ready while music played and food and drinks circulated. The Barton clan arrived, as did Vision and the twins. The morning flew by and suddenly it was time.

 

Stephen opened a portal in the living room for everyone who was left. You stood in the kitchen and watched as Laura and Vision ushered all the kids through the sparking gateway. Kate, Wanda, and Natasha stood at the threshold.

 

Kate waved to you before stepping forward and you could just see Peter's arm extending for her to take before she disappeared, not before you saw the beaming smile on her face.

 

Wanda gave a reassuring smile before stepping forward to meet Sam.

 

Natasha blew you a kiss with a wink. You saw Steve's arm extend through the portal and she grabbed it, stepping through. 

 

You took some deep breaths, trying to steady yourself. You could hear your pulse in your ears. Clint put a hand on your upper arm and you turned to him. He saw the look in your eyes and immediately took both your hands.

 

“Breathe, Kes. Just breathe, okay?” He made sure you were looking at him and gave you a soft, calming smile. “Everything's going to be okay. Just hang on to me and keep your eyes on him, alright?”

 

You took deep slow breaths, nodding. “Okay,” you straightened. “I'm ready.” You stepped over to the portal, careful to stay out of view. Clint stood beside you, offering his arm and you linked it with yours. You smiled at him and nodded. 

 

You both turned, stepping through the portal and onto the grass on the other side. You were vaguely aware that Stephen closed it behind you. 

 

But you couldn't think about anything but the pair of brilliant blue eyes fixated on you as you slowly walked forward. You weren't sure that you were consciously moving, just trusting Clint to keep guiding you on. The look on Bucky's face knocked the wind out of you. No one had ever looked at you like that before; like you were starlight and he was awestruck.

 

Besides that, he looked breathtaking. Sam did a good job with the suit, deep blue and velvet trimmed. It certainly brought out his eyes. He looked impossibly handsome and it further stole the air from your lungs. 

 

And just like that you were standing in front of him. You watched him try to discreetly wipe a tear from his eye and you fought to keep your own eyes dry. Clint let go of your arm, pulling you in for a crushing hug which you gladly returned. He placed a kiss to the side of your head. “Love you, Kes.”

 

“Love you too, Hawk,” you echoed as he let go.

 

Clint turned to Bucky, taking his hand and pulling him in for a bro hug. “Remember; you fuck up, you're fertilizer,” he whispered before letting go and moving to sit with his family.

 

Bucky took your hand. “You look incredible, doll,” he whispered as he kissed your hand. 

 

“So do you, handsome,” you replied with a quiet giggle.

 

“Alright, well, we all know why we're here,” Tony addressed the crowd. 

 

There was hushed laughter. You fought the urge to turn and look at the crowd. Bucky squeezed your hand and you looked at him instead. His showstopping smile pulled you in and kept you grounded. You smiled back. 

 

“They might regret asking me to officiate,” Tony continued. “But here goes…”

 

The rest of the ceremony was an absolute blur. You kept your eyes on Bucky, repeated after Tony when he asked, and slid a ring on Bucky's vibranium hand.

 

Then Bucky was wrapping his arms around your waist, dipping you to the side, and sealing his lips to yours in a strong, slow kiss. The crowd erupted in clapping and cheers. He slowly pulled away, smiling at you, as he lifted you back to stand at his side. 

 

“Folks, it's my honor to present, Mr and Mrs Barnes!” Tony declared. 

 

You and Bucky practically ran back up the aisle, your wedding party on your heels as your friends and family continued to clap and cheer for you.

 

***

 

Hours passed as pictures were taken and people were greeted and laughter and hugs were given and received. The sun was setting. The dozens of soft lights were lit and people moved about, chatting and eating and drinking.

 

You were at the bar, enjoying a moment of quiet, when you felt a hand slide across your lower back. You smiled, sipping your drink.

 

“You better be my husband, or you may not have a hand by the end of the night,” you cautioned whomever was behind you without turning around.

 

You felt lips at your ears, a soft brush, and a kiss. 

“It's a good thing I'm your husband, then,” Bucky replied. You could feel him grin against your ear at the word.

 

You turned to face him and he cocked his head, a lopsided grin on his lips, his eyes, were, dare you say, just a little glassy? You narrowed your eyes just a bit.

 

“Thor’s been sharing again?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. 

 

“He's generous like that,” Bucky replied with a wry smile. “They're calling for our dance, doll.”

 

Bucky held out his hand and you took it, following him to the dance floor. The sunset was lighting up the mountains in an alpenglow. You focused on the scenery while Bucky swayed and spun you.

 

“Today was perfect,” you breathed, resting your cheek against his. 

 

“It sure was, baby,” Bucky agreed.

 

The music was coming to an end. Bucky twirled you around and then dipped you, just like he had at the ceremony, slanting his lips over yours. You wove your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and he held you there for a moment before pulling you upright. 

 

Everyone was clapping again. You heard Sam whistle and rolled your eyes. The DJ announced that the dancefloor was open and it was shortly filled with people. You sauntered back to your table, deciding it was time to ditch your shoes.

 

You took a beat to just watch what was happening as you set your shoes on Bucky's chair and sipped at your drink. Sam was at the bar with Bruce and Thor. Bruce looked uncomfortable, as always, and you watched Thor clap him on the back. Steve was being led out to the dance floor by Natasha, where Wanda and her boys were already dancing, as were Cooper and Laura, which you found adorable. You watched with a grin as Kate ran over to Peter and yanked him to his feet and into the fray. Peter stiffly swayed her back and forth and she must have said something to make him laugh because he relaxed a little.

 

Then your view was being blocked by a body. You looked up and grinned. 

 

“How ‘bout it, Kes, you gonna dance with your old man?” Clint held out a hand toward you expectantly. 

 

You laughed and took his hand, getting to your feet and letting him lead you back to the dancefloor.

 

“You're not really old enough to be my father, Hawk,” you teased.

 

“Close enough, kid,” he replied as he held you tight and moved you across the floor.

 

“You look beautiful. I hope he's told you that at least once,” Clint raised an eyebrow.

 

“He has,” you affirmed. You gave Clint a soft smile. “He's a good man and he loves me, Clint. You know that, right?”

 

Clint laughed and spun you around.

 

“Of course I do, Kes,” he replied, shaking his head. “Otherwise, there's no way I woulda let you marry him. It's my job to bust his balls and make sure he stays in line. That's what dads do for their kids,” he said with a snarky grin. “I just hope he's not expecting things from you that you're not willing to give.”

 

“We talked about it. He knows I don't want to have kids. I made sure we were on the same page. I wouldn't have let him do this if I didn't think we agreed,” you assured him.

 

Clint nodded and looked a bit relieved. “I just want you to be happy, kid. That's all that matters.”

 

“I am, Clint, don't worry.” You rested your head on his shoulder and let the song play out.

 

The night slowly wound down. You danced with your nephew and you and Peter both shed a couple tears. Steve swept you off your feet, literally, and you got the distinct feeling that he was proving a point, most likely to Bucky, that he was just as good a dancer as his friend. Tony took his turn, checking on you, much like Clint had. You danced with your bride's maids and with the kids and there was lots of laughter and pictures.

 

Bucky found you back at your seat again. He picked up your shoes and took his seat beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You turned to look at him. 

 

“I think it's time for us to go,” you suggested.

 

Bucky grinned. “I thought you'd never ask, doll.”

 

He stood, offering his hand, which you took. You ran around bidding goodnight to your friends and family. You hugged the kids and thanked them for sharing this special day with you. You hugged Peter and asked him to please get a ride back to the city with Kate tomorrow so he didn't have to worry about getting up early to catch trains. He was only too happy to oblige. Clint gave you one last kiss on the forehead, reminding you that home was always with him and his family no matter what, before releasing you back to your new husband.

 

You and Bucky walked hand in hand away from the crowd where Stephen was waiting to open a portal for you. You stepped over and embraced him.

 

“Thank you, Stephen,” you said as you pulled away. “This would have been very difficult to pull off without. We're truly grateful.”

 

Bucky nodded, offering his hand. Which Stephen shook. 

 

“She's right, Strange. Thanks,” Bucky said.

 

“I'm glad I could be a part of this. Congratulations,” Stephen replied before motioning a circle and opening the gateway for you.

 

You gave him one last smile as you and Bucky stepped through and it closed behind you. 

 

***

 

You found yourselves in a large, dimly lit room. On the far wall was an enormous bed and to your right, large French doors that lead to a stone patio. Beyond thin, short trees you could see rolling ocean waves illuminated by moonlight.

 

Bucky was moving toward a dresser, shedding his suit jacket and setting it down. You set your shoes by a closet door and started for the doors to the patio. 

 

“Do you have any idea where we are?” You asked him as you pulled the doors open. You were hit by the salty breeze, warm and inviting as the sound of the waves beckoned you closer. 

 

“Nope,” Bucky replied as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. 

 

“Me neither, but I'm guessing the Mediterranean,” you said, attempting to step outside, but Bucky wasn't letting you move.

 

“We can find out in the morning,” Bucky breathed against your ear. “Right now, you've got a promise to keep.”

 

Without another word of warning, Bucky lifted you into his arms. He walked you back to the bed, tossing you down. You bounced just a little when you landed, causing you to giggle. You sat up on your elbows, your pulse rising as you watched him grab the hem of your dress, rucking up the skirt. His hands traced your legs, pausing to caress the soft skin of your inner thigh and you sighed. 

 

“If you're planning on getting this off by lifting it over my head, I'm afraid that won't work,” you warned.

 

He backed up to give you space when you stood. His eyes were already dark and his tongue darted out to wet his lower lip when you gave him a wicked grin and spun around. You pulled your hair out of the way, showing the row of buttons that lined the back of your dress. You looked back over your shoulder at him, that same wicked grin on your lips. You saw him set his jaw, annoyance clearly coloring his face. 

 

“Better get to work, Soldier,” you teased with a chuckle. 

 

He hooked his fingers into the v-shaped edge of your dress. “If you insist, doll,” he growled.

 

He gave a quick, sharp tug and the dress was ripped down the middle, buttons flying and clattering across multiple surfaces. 

 

“That is not what I meant and you know it, Bucky!” You cried. 

 

He just chuckled as he pushed the remains of the fabric off your body and it fell to the floor. Anything witty he might have said next died on his lips when he saw what you were wearing underneath.

 

You weren't typically one for lingerie, but you had decided, since it was your wedding night, he deserved something special. His eyes raked over your frame, taking in the deep blue lace covered bustier and matching panties. You slowly turned around and he was practically drooling. 

 

“Fuck, baby,” he breathed as he drank you in. “You're so fucking beautiful.”

 

He crashed his lips to yours, kissing you hard as his hands ran slow and dragging up your sides. He let his fingers glide over the satin and toy with the lace. His tongue slid into your mouth, tangling with yours and pulling a moan from you. You felt his hand cradling your breasts over the fabric. Your hands found his shirt and you tried to start undoing the buttons, but it was hard with the way he was kissing you dizzy.

 

Bucky's lips detached from you and he rested his forehead against yours while you breathed for a moment. He saw you fumbling with his shirt and smirked.

 

“Here, let me help you with that, doll,” he said as he grabbed the shirt and tore it open. More buttons scattered throughout the room. 

 

You bit your lip, eyes falling half lidded. “I wanna scold you, but, fuck, if it's not the hottest thing in the universe when you do that.” You laid your hands on his bare chest, running them up to his shoulders and shoving the fabric off to land on the floor.

 

You moaned when he attached his lips to your neck, marking the skin with his teeth and tongue. His mouth continued to work over your neck and throat, encouraging moans and whimpers from your lips. Your hands clawed at this chest, nails leaving red marks. He lifted his head with a deep groan when you sucked a deep red mark into his chest just below the seam on his left shoulder.

 

His fingers dug into your hips pulling you against him, hard and you felt his erection straining against the confines of his pants. You let your fingertips ghost across his skin, over his sculpted abdomen, until they met with his belt and you unbuckled it. You felt his fingers hooking into your panties as he stared into your eyes and you put a hand on his to still him. He gave you a questioning look.

 

“Tonight you're going first, love,” you whispered as you undid his pants and pushed them off his hips along with his briefs. He stepped out and kicked them aside.

 

You held his eyes as you slowly sank to your knees in front of him. He looked like he was holding his breath as he watched you slowly take his cock in your hand and run your tongue along the underside, swirling it when you reached the tip. Bucky let out a low, deep growl when your mouth closed around him, hands tangling in your hair.

 

“Baby, that feels so good,” he rasped as you took him deeper, sucking and caressing with your tongue.

 

His hands in your hair tugged when he hit the back of your throat and you hummed against him, making him groan. You bobbed your head on his shaft as he held your head and his hips bucked into you gently. You continued sucking and swirling your tongue and you heard him panting above you.

 

“Ahh, baby, don't stop, I'm gonna come,” he warned and you bobbed faster, letting him hold your head and guide you.

 

You sucked hard against him and he came, spurting down your throat. You worked him through his orgasm until he pulled you back and you released him with a pop. You smiled up at him through your lashes, biting your lip. 

 

“Fuck, you're gonna kill me with that look, doll,” Bucky drawled.

 

You smiled wider and winked and he growled. He grabbed your shoulders and pulled you to your feet. “Now it's your turn, baby,” he whispered before claiming your lips and stepping forward to force you down on the bed. He leaned down with you as you laid back, kissing you fiercely as you went.

 

Once you were on your back, he stood up again and admired the view. The lust-blown look in your eyes, your kiss-bitten lips, the way your chest heaved against the bustier as you struggled to catch your breath. He would never get enough of you, he was sure of it.

 

Bucky kneeled down beside the bed between your legs. He gripped below your knees, pulling you a bit closer to the edge. You propped yourself up on your elbows watching him about to hook his fingers into the band of your panties. He caught your eye and you smirked, biting your lip again. 

 

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “What, baby?”

 

You grinned wider and let your knees fall open, baring your wet pussy to his view. You watched feeling triumphant as his jaw slacked and his nostrils flared.

 

“Crotchless panties, fuck, baby, I told you, you're gonna kill me,” he practically whined before immediately diving his tongue into you.

 

You fell back against the bed, writhing, as he ate you like a man starved. He grabbed your ankles and lifted your legs onto his shoulders. His tongue assaulted your clit, sucking and swirling. You were practically screaming his name, pressing your pussy into his face, thighs clamping around his head. A few moments more, and you came with a vengeance, grabbing his hair and holding on for dear life as he worked you through the high and back down. 

 

When he finally lifted his head, stubble glistening, you were practically seeing stars. You watched, breathless and boneless, as he rose from the floor, keeping your legs over his shoulders. You watched him crawl over you, forcing your legs higher, until you were folded in half. You could feel the tip of his cock nudging your entrance and each soft brush of the head made you whimper. 

 

He dipped his head to kiss along the top of your breasts and slowly pressed his cock into you. You moaned low and deep as he slowly filled you up, your hands fisting the blanket beneath you. 

 

Bucky groaned as he watched the beautiful way your lips parted and you let out loud moans of his name when he entered you. He squeezed his eyes shut when he bottomed out, biting down hard on his lip to keep from coming when another beautiful moan rolled off your lips. 

 

“I'll never get tired of those noises, doll,” he breathed, pulling you in for a sloppy open mouthed kiss. He sucked on your tongue as he pulled back to thrust into you again, swallowing the cry that rose in your throat. He began to thrust steadily into you, watching as your head fell back and eyes squeezed shut. 

 

Strings of incoherent thoughts left your lips along with chants of his name and your hands came up to grip his biceps. Your nails bit into his skin, and he growled. He sat back, snaking his arms underneath your body and pulling you flush to his chest, before picking up his pace, pounding into you so hard you thought you might split in half. 

 

Little cries of ‘uh, uh’ left your lips as he hit your spot with each thrust and he was fighting hard to stay in control. Finally, his next thrust sent you soaring with a guttural scream of his name and he tumbled right behind you, your name falling from his lips like a prayer. 

 

Bucky collapsed on top of you for a moment, kissing you hard, before rolling to lay on his back beside you. You turned to him, laughing at the look of complete bliss on his face.

 

“Were you trying to fuck your way into my soul, make sure that last name sticks?” You asked with a devilish smile.

 

Bucky turned to look at you, that damn smile that had you weak in the knees from the moment you met him plastered across his face. His hand reached out and cupped your jaw. “The name’s yours now, love. Too late to take it back.”

 

You just rolled your eyes and laughed. His hand dropped to trace the lace along the top of your bustier.

 

“I take it the lingerie was a good idea?” You asked, though the answer was obvious.

 

Chapter 13: Oh, Shit

A week went by far too quickly and then you were back at the compound and back to the impending reality of a fight you weren't ready to win. Tony and Bruce were in contact with Shuri and they were devising a way to remove the Mind Stone from Vision, the hope being that once that was accomplished, Wanda would be able to destroy it. Thor left in search of a new weapon, “the Thanos killing kind”, as he put it.

 

Days turned into weeks with nothing happening. It became harder to feel like the threat was urgent. Steve had started additional training exercises trying to keep everyone alert and ready, some scheduled, some spontaneous. This morning happened to be one of those spontaneous times.

 

You had been split into teams and sent into the woods with the goal of guarding your designated homebase and capturing a weapon from the opposing team. Due to the looming threat, you had a heavier than usual roster, so you ended up with Sam, Wanda, and Clint white somewhere out in the trees Steve, Nat, Bucky, and Vision plotted their approach.

 

You stood at the ready, bow drawn, your team’s ‘weapon’ (which happened to be an unmarked steel box) on a rock behind you. Sam and Wanda were doing perimeter checks and Clint was just in sight, up a nearby tree. You chuckled to yourself as it occurred to you this was basically Avengers Capture the Flag.

 

You gripped your bow, eyes scanning your surroundings as you tried to ignore the churning in your stomach. You woke feeling drained, as it was, but being immediately ushered out to a mock fight when dawn was barely breaking had you feeling nauseated. You felt acid in your throat and choked it back, just in time to feel Steve’s shield whizzing through the air past your head. You ducked and shot an arrow in the direction it came from, searching for your assailant. Before you could turn, a foot kicked at the back of your knee, sending you toward the ground. You managed to twist and recover, swinging your bow back to clip your attacker (whom you assumed was Steve) in the shoulder. He grunted and rolled, blocking your next attack and grabbing your wrist.

 

But it wasn’t Steve. “Morning, Mrs Barnes,” Bucky drawled as he cocked his head and gave you a lopsided grin. He easily grabbed your other wrist when you tried to counter attack, twisting around until he had you pinned to his chest.

 

“Switching weapons isn’t fair play,” you complained. You dropped to your knees, trying to use his hold on your arms against him and his top heavy-stance made him falter, allowing you to wriggle free and grab your bow once more.

 

Before you could make another move, an arrow flew out of the nearby tree, checking Bucky’s thigh, little bursts of electricity dancing over his armor. Bucky grit his teeth and cursed, pulling the arrow out, snapping his head back to see Clint dropping down from the tree, bow aimed at him again.

 

You took advantage of the distraction, landing a heavy kick to Bucky’s knee. He went down, rolling to the side, and popping back up in one motion. You ran for the shield that was laying in the grass a few yards away, leaving Bucky to contend with Clint. Grabbing Cap’s shield, you swung in a circle, aiming it for Bucky while he and Clint swung at each other, and let it fly, Bucky caught it right out of the air with his vibranium arm and you groaned with a curse.

 

You heard a second set of footsteps behind you and turned just in time to see Natasha slide across the ground, aiming for you and you felt one of her bites land in your bicep. It was a low intensity version for training, not harmful, but it still hurt plenty. You cursed as you grabbed at it, yanking it free. You turned back, meaning to engage her, but suddenly your skin felt clammy and you felt your pulse spike.

 

Natasha clearly noticed because she stepped to your side and pulled your hair out of the way just in time for you to vomit across the square of grass where she had been standing. You put your hands on your knees and you doubled over as you continued to empty the contents of your stomach. You took some deep breaths and tried to steady yourself once it was through.

 

Bucky dropped the shield and bolted for you. Clint was on coms talking to Steve. You felt like your ears might be ringing a little and you missed the conversation. You felt Bucky grabbing your shoulders and you turned to look at him.

 

“Hey, baby, you alright?” His eyes scanned you for signs of injury, brows furrowed in concern.

 

You shook your head slowly, still feeling a little of the nausea. “I think so. I woke up feeling out of it. I probably just caught a bug.”

 

Clint came to stand at your side, looking you up and down, much the same as Bucky had, trying to decide if you were worse off than you said, no doubt. You watched his face change, the crease in his brow becoming considerably deeper, and his stance became heavier as he crossed his arms. You gave him a puzzled look, but he ignored you, his jaw setting.

 

Steve was jogging to you and came to a halt in front of Bucky.

 

“What happened? We were supposed to be using non-lethals,” Steve gave pointed stares to each of you.

 

“Relax, Cap, no one is hurt,” Natasha assured him.

 

“I’m just sick, Steve, it’s fine. Probably just a stomach flu or something,” you replied.

 

Steve nodded, but before he could say more, Bucky was picking you up, cradling you to his chest. “Yeah, you’re done for today,” he declared. He turned and started walking back to the compound.

 

You caught Steve’s eye over his shoulder as you left and mouthed ‘sorry’ offering an apologetic look.

 

Steve sighed, dropping his head. “I thought I gave the orders,” he quietly remarked, eyes on Bucky’s back as he walked you both away.

 

“Shove it up your ass, Steve. She’s my wife,” Bucky yelled back.

 

Natasha noticed Clint’s eyes boring into you as you quickly faded from view. She cocked an eyebrow. “She’ll be fine, Barton.”

 

Clint turned to face her and sighed. “She will if I’m wrong. Otherwise, it’ll be a lot more complicated.”

 

Natasha and Steve both frowned at him in confusion.

 

“Clint, what the hell does that mean?” Nat asked.

 

“Cap, do me a favor and call the grumpy cyborg back out here for a while. I need to talk to Kes.” Clint jogged off after you and Bucky.

 

Steve put his hands on his hips and watched Clint disappear as well. “Okay, I really AM supposed to be the one giving the orders,” Steve said with just the slightest hint of exasperation.

 

Natasha grinned, giving him a coy smile. “I let you order me around, and most people can’t say the same. That’s gotta count for something.”

 

***

 

“Bucky, I’m fine,” you insisted as he tucked the comforter up around you again. “I am not the first person in existence to catch a stomach bug. Just let me sleep it off.”

 

Bucky eyed you suspiciously, wondering, just like Clint had, if you were worse off than you were letting on. “You’re sure you don’t need me to stay?”

 

You placed your hands on either side of his face and gave him a smile. “I know you don’t remember, since the last time you were sick was like eighty years ago, but people don’t suddenly drop dead from nausea.”

 

You laughed when Bucky rolled his eyes, but you pushed him away just the same.

 

“I heard Steve calling you back out before you took my com,” you reminded him. “You better go.”

 

Bucky groaned and rolled his eyes again. “Steve’s just being a dick because I didn’t let him tell me what to do.”

 

“Steve’s just doing his job and you need to do yours, which just so happens to include doing what he says,” you pointed out.

 

There was a knock at the door and Bucky got up to open it. Clint was waiting on the other side. “Cap’s lookin’ for you,” he told Bucky as he walked in the room.

 

“So I’ve been told,” Bucky grumbled watching Clint walk over and sit next to you on the bed.

 

“I’ll stay with her for a bit, Barnes. Go on,” Clint encouraged, taking off his boots and climbing over to sit on Bucky’s side.

 

“Just make yourself right at home, why don’t you, Barton,” Bucky said sarcastically as he started for the door.

 

“Hey, I’m not the one that told Cap to shove it up his ass. I’m technically retired. I only have to do what he says if I feel like it,” Clint remarked with equal sarcasm.

 

Bucky ignored him, pausing to look at you from the doorway. “Call me if you need anything. I’ll be back whenever Steve decides I’ve learned my lesson.”

 

You laughed and signed that you loved him as he shut the door behind him.

 

You turned to fix Clint with a skeptical look. “Hawk, I’m honestly feeling fine now, just tired. I don’t need a babysitter to take a nap,” you told him as you raised an eyebrow. “So did you just come in here to piss off my husband or to help Steve prove a point?”

 

Clint’s face was stone, and your own faltered. “I think you need to take a test.”

 

You tilted your head, further arching your brow in confusion. “... like for math or to find out my personality type?”

 

Clint shifted a little to face you. “Kes,” he paused to make sure you saw how serious he was. “I think you need to take a pregnancy test,” he specified.

 

You blinked at him for a moment, your brain catching up to his words, before you burst out laughing. You shook your head adamantly. “I’m not pregnant, Clint, there’s no way,” you assured him.

 

Clint gave you a completely incredulous look. “There’s no way,” he said, the words dripping with sarcasm. “Because you guys certainly haven’t been fucking like rabbits for months now.”

 

You sat up, eyes wide, your jaw practically on the floor. “Clint, I am going to try and forget you said that, but I probably can’t because it is now burned in my brain.” You shuddered with a grimace. “Isn’t there some unspoken rule that dad’s don’t talk about their daughter’s sex lives?!”

 

Clint just laughed and put an arm around your shoulders when you buried your face in your hands. You slumped against his side as you quietly laughed too.

 

“What makes you think you would be able to tell, anyway; did you acquire an ability and forget to tell anyone?” You asked when the laughter quieted down.

 

“I’ve got three kids, Kes, I can see the signs. I knew Laura was pregnant with Nathaniel before she did,” Clint answered.

 

“Fair enough. But still,” you said as you sat up and grabbed your phone. “I can’t be pregnant. My last birth control shot was…” You paused as you scrolled through your calendar. You kept scrolling. Your face fell as you finally landed on the date marked. “... oh my- shit,” you breathed in quiet shock.

 

“Clint…” You turned to look at him as you felt the color draining from your face. “I think I need to take a test.”

 

***

 

A clandestine trip to the medical wing and 30 minutes later, you were sitting on the edge of the tub in your bathroom, staring and waiting. You could feel your pulse steadily rising and you were physically forcing yourself to keep taking breaths so you didn’t pass out. You heard a knock on the door.

 

“Can I come in now?” Clint asked, muffled through the barrier.

 

“Yeah,” you quietly replied, eyes never leaving your counter.

 

You heard the door open and then Clint was sitting beside you. You sat in silence as you stared and waited. Slowly, the colors changed and you felt all the blood drain to your feet.

 

Two pink lines, unmistakable and prominent. There they were, staring back at you. It was real.

 

And then your vision went black and you were quickly headed backwards, if not for Clint’s quick reaction.

 

“Woah, okay, nope, wrong way,” he eased you down to sit on the cool, tiled floor instead. “Cracking your skull open isn’t going to help.”

 

You just stared straight ahead in absolute shock. “I can hit a moving target the size of a dime from 200 yards in 30 mile an hour winds… BUT I CAN’T REMEMBER TO GET MY BIRTH CONTROL SHOT ONCE EVERY 3 MONTHS?!” You shouted at no one in particular, words echoing off the tiles.

 

You looked at Clint and you knew he was fighting not to laugh.

 

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” You shouted and then your head was in your hands again. “What do I do? Do I tell Bucky? Will he be upset? Or happy? Will he hate me if I don't want to keep it? Could I even do that to him? Oh my God, what the fuck am I gonna do?” You spiraled, panic and tears swimming in your eyes.

 

“Alright, slow down,” Clint soothed as he sat down next to you. “Right now, what you have to do is breathe so you don't pass out. Okay?”

 

You didn't respond, so he took your hand and placed it on his chest. “Breathe with me, Kes. Just breathe. That's it.”

 

You felt your breaths even out slowly as you mimicked the pattern you felt in his chest. You eased back to rest against the tub, shutting your eyes. Clint let several minutes of quiet settle in before he spoke.

 

“You don't have to do anything you don't want to do, Kes. You get to decide. And it doesn't have to be today. You can take your time. But no matter what,” he looked at you, strength and sincerity in his eyes, just like his words. “This is your choice and I'll support you.”

 

“What about him?” You quietly asked, looking back at him. 

 

Clint felt his heart break a little at the fear and uncertainty he saw on your face. He reached over to pull you against his side and you immediately curled into him. He kissed your head.

 

“He'll support you too. I know he will,” Clint assured you. “And if for some God-awful reason, he turns out to be a complete asshole and he doesn't, then you walk away.” 

 

“I don't think I could,” you said honestly. “I don't think I have the strength to walk away from him, no matter what happens.”

 

“Sure you could. You can come back to the farm with me and I'll put him in the ground and you'll never have to see him again.”

 

“Clint,” you chided. “If, under some catastrophic circumstance, we ever split up, you can't just kill him.”

 

“It won't come to that, kid, don't worry,” he said with a reassuring pat.

 

“I still don't know what to do now,” you said with a sigh. 

 

Clint nodded. “Alright, first things first,” he got to his feet and reached out his hand. “We get off the floor.”

 

You grabbed it and he pulled you up next to him. “Now what?”

 

“Now, we hide the evidence, at least until you decide what you want to do,” he grabbed the test and box off the counter, threw them in the trash and then took the bag from the bin and tied it off.

 

“I'll take out the trash,” he offered. “While I'm gone, you should call Laura. She'll have a perspective I don't.”

 

You nodded as you followed him out of the bathroom. You walked over to sit back on the bed and he headed toward the door. 

 

“You're coming back, right, Hawk?” You sheepishly asked when he reached the door. “I lied, I definitely need a babysitter right now.”

 

“I'll be right back, I promise,” he replied. “We can watch movies and eat snacks and I'm sure you'll need a nap. Okay?”

 

“Okay,” you agreed. 

 

He headed out, and you settled against your pillows, grabbing your phone to call Laura. 

 

You waited for her to pick up and when you heard her quiet yet cheerful greeting, your heart leapt into your throat. It occurred to you that you had to say it out loud.

 

You took a deep breath. “So… I fucked up.”

 

***

 

After you eventually hung up with Laura, you must have fallen asleep because the next thing you knew Clint was shaking your shoulder to wake you up. 

 

“Hey,” he said quietly. “I'm sorry to wake you, but Bucky is headed back and I wanted to make sure you weren't blindsided.”

 

You sat up, feeling groggy and a bit disoriented. “Alright, thank you.”

 

“You want me to make up some excuse to keep him out for a bit longer?” Clint offered. 

 

“No,” you shook your head. “He'll just get worried and probably ignore you anyway. It's okay. I can deal with it.”

 

Clint watched you for a beat, deciding if he thought that was true, but he slowly nodded. He stood, grabbing his jacket from the foot of the bed.

 

“There's no pressure, Kes, I promise,” he said as he turned back to you. “But do you have any idea how far along you are?”

 

“Just going by my calendar, I'm guessing like maybe 8 or 9 weeks? I guess I need to see a doctor,” you remarked quietly.

 

“When you're ready,” Clint reiterated. He leaned in to kiss your forehead. “Call if you need me, kid, or just show up at the house; you know you always can. Love ya.”

 

You signed that you loved him too as he left.

 

You waited in nervous silence for Bucky. You realized you needed to project at least the semblance of calm or he would needle it out of you as soon as he walked in, so you settled back into your blankets, turned on a sitcom, and tried to relax.

 

Bucky opened the door a few minutes later. He smiled at you as he toed off his boots and stripped out of his tactical gear. He sat beside you, leaning in to give you a gentle kiss. 

 

“You feelin’ better, doll?” He scooted you over so he could sit back against the headboard and pulled you back to rest against his chest. 

 

“Yeah, I think so,” you replied, placing a careful smile on your face and snuggling into him. “What time is it?”

 

“Like 2 something,” Bucky replied. “Clint said you fell asleep a few hours ago. Are you still nauseous or do you want some lunch?”

 

You twisted your lip in thought. The honest answer was that you were famished and felt like you could eat the entire fridge, but that answer would not balance well with your gastro-pyrotechnics earlier so you tempered your response. “I should probably eat something, yeah.”

 

“Okay,” Bucky responded. He gently nudged you to sit up and got back off the bed.

 

You moved to get up too, but he pressed you back down.

 

“You stay, love. I’ll get it,” Bucky insisted.

 

“I’m fine, Buck,” you reiterated as you tried to stand.

 

You managed to get as far as your legs over the side of the bed this time before Bucky halted you once again. He placed his hands firmly on your waist, holding you down. You looked up at him with annoyance.

 

“I’m not dying. I can get my own sandwich,” you said. You watched as he slowly bent to rest on his knees in front of you.

 

“I know, baby,” had said as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed his head to your chest. “But can’t you just let me take care of you?”

 

You sighed and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, hands stroking through his hair. “I guess if you insist,” you relented.

 

“Good,” he agreed.

 

He slowly stood up, keeping his grip around you, his head still pressed to your chest, and used the change in position to push you back down on the bed. You saw a coy smile on his lips as he turned and kissed your chest then your stomach, slowly moving his way down your body. You sighed at his touch when his hands slid under your tshirt and caressed your skin. His lips continued down, laying kissing against the fabric of your shirt until he reached your lower belly and he pushed the shirt out of the way to kiss your skin.

 

Your hands carded through his hair and he kissed you again, lower this time, lips dragging across the skin of your lower belly. He nuzzled you with his nose and then laid his head against your abdomen, tilting to look up at you. You smiled, continuing to gently run your nails over his scalp. You watched his eyes fall closed and a contented sigh pass his lips and your smile grew. 

 

He stayed there for a moment, rested against your belly, hands rubbing gently up and down your sides and you thought it might lull you back to sleep. Then his hands suddenly stilled and felt him tense, ever so slightly. You shifted so you could better see his face. His eyes were open now and he looked like he was concentrating, almost like he was confused.

 

You sat up on your elbows. “Buck?” You gave him a questioning look. “What’s wrong?”

 

Bucky snapped his head up to look at you almost like you had startled him and your frown deepened. You sat up and put a hand on his shoulder. You watched him swallow and he shook his head a bit before returning a quiet smile to his face.

 

“Nothing, doll, don’t worry,” he smoothly replied. “I just remembered I told Steve I would help him sort through some intel once I checked on you. He’s still sore about earlier,” he assured you with a crooked grin.

 

You narrowed your eyes because that was clearly an excuse or half-truth of some kind, but you made a decision to let it go.

 

“Okay…” you replied. “Well, you better go, then. You’ve pissed him off enough for one day. I can get myself something to eat.”

 

“No,” Bucky firmly replied, leaving no room for argument. He picked you up and tucked you neatly back into bed like he had earlier. “You need to rest. Stay right here. I’ll get Clint to make you something and he can stay with you until I get back.”

 

You huffed and crossed your arms. “Listen, Barnes, I have been dealing with minor stomach bugs my entire existence. They do not require round the clock care.”

 

“Just humor me, doll, please?” Bucky’s eyes were a shade of pleading that took you by surprise and whatever insistent retort you were preparing died on your tongue.

 

“Yeah, alright, Bucky, I’ll stay here,” you promised him. You gave him a warm smile, hoping to dissuade whatever was causing him to be this anxious.

 

“Thank you,” he replied as he leaned in and tenderly kissed your forehead. He pulled back and rested his own against it. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, baby. I love you.”

 

The sincerity in his words caught you off guard, feeling rather disproportionate to an afternoon spent separated by nothing more than a few yards of grass and a building. But you returned the sentiment nonetheless.

 

You watched him step through the door and close it behind him with one last look at you. You sat back and crossed your arms, realizing once again how hungry you actually were, and hoped Clint did indeed bring lunch soon, since you had agreed not to get up.

 

After a few minutes, you gave up and ordered a pizza, texting Clint that to let him know so he could grab it when it arrived. Well, pizza… and garlic knots and a calzone, because it sounded good, and then a salad for good measure. Damn baby clearly had his father’s super soldier sized appetite already.

 

***

 

Bucky managed to get the door closed, walk down the hallway, and enter the kitchen before he had to sit down and take a breath. What the hell was that? He was fighting to keep his mind from jumping to all the worst conclusions as he analyzed what had just happened.

 

The serum meant enhanced everything, including all his senses. He was used to the sounds he heard that others didn’t. Specifically, he was used to your sounds. He could pick your heartbeat out of a crowd, even before, when you were just friends, he memorized the sound of your breathing. And now, after things changed, he had spent enough time with his head pressed to your body that he knew what you were supposed to sound like.

 

So what the hell had he just heard? This sound was new and immediately he felt fear coursing through his veins. Were you sick? And if you were, would you be okay? His mind was threatening to reel and he stood up, determined to run right to the lab and get Bruce to come see you right away.

 

He turned back to the door and saw Clint walking in holding a pizza box and a plastic bag. Clint set the things down on the counter. And turned back to Bucky, brow furrowed. “You still want me to babysit or are you done with whatever you were doing?”

 

Bucky just stared for a moment and Clint’s frown deepened. “Barnes, you okay?”

 

“Did she seem okay to you earlier? I mean other than the puking, did she seem normal? Did she mention anything else not feeling right or any pain?”

 

Clint swallowed as he felt the deep concern that practically radiated off Bucky’s person. He didn’t know what had him worked up, but he was sure you would have let him know if you decided to share your secret, so he planted his feet, crossed his arms, and played dumb.

 

“She was fine, just tired. Why? Did she say something to you?” Clint subtly prodded.

 

Bucky shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. “No, she told me she was fine too, it’s just…” Bucky hestated, unsure how to explain what had his guard up. “I heard something… off. It’s hard to explain. Just the super senses means I can tell when something is off, and she doesn’t… sound the same,” he ran his hand down his face in frustration. Clint gave him a skeptical look. “I know how that sounds, don’t look at me like that.”

 

Then Clint shifted, face falling as he pieced together the words Bucky said with the knowledge he had. Bucky didn’t miss the change and he stood up straighter, stepping a little closer to him.

 

“Clint… what do you know?”

 

Clint firmly shook his head. “Nope, this has nothing to do with me. Talk to your wife, Barnes”

 

Bucky’s eyes glinted with irritation, bordering on anger, and he stepped closer to Clint again, his stance almost threatening. He shifted to look down just a little at the slightly shorter man.

 

“Barton, you better fucking tell me what’s wrong with my wife, or I swear to God-” Bucky spat, but Clint held up a hand and stopped him.

 

“Nothing is wrong with her, I swear. She’s completely fine. You don’t need to worry,” Clint assured him. “And if you want more information, you have to ask her. She’s like my kid, Barnes, you know that, and I would do anything for her, but I won’t tell a secret that isn’t mine.”

 

That was when Steve walked in. He saw the two men standing by the island, locked in a staring contest. Bucky looked like he had murder in his eyes and Clint was not backing down. Steve cleared his throat. They both snapped their attention to him.

 

“If you two decide to kill each other, I’m pretty sure she’ll have Strange find a way to bring you back so she can kill you both herself,” Steve remarked coolly.

 

Clint backed up a step, grabbing the pizza box and plastic bag. “I better not let her pizza get cold,” was all he said before abruptly storming down the hall.

 

Steve watched him go and turned back to Bucky. The look on his face was all questions and confusion. “Buck, what the hell just happened? Barton can be an ass, but you looked like you might have broken his nose if I hadn’t walked in.”

 

Bucky just blinked, an angry frown still etched into his face. He finally unfolded his arms and relaxed his stance, sitting back on a barstool. “There’s something wrong with her, Steve, I can tell. He knows what it is and he wouldn’t say,” Bucky said, cursing Clint under his breath. He ran a hand down his face again.

 

Steve crossed to sit next to him. “What do you mean? How do you know something is wrong?”

 

“I could hear it, there was something different about the way she sounds, inside. I know you know what I mean. I’m sure you can hear things too; heart rates, breathing, digestion, even blood rushing if you’re close enough,” Bucky explained and Steve nodded.

 

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Steve agreed. “So what sounded different? Her heartbeat?”

 

Bucky shook his head. “I don’t think so. It was too quiet. And too fast. It was steady, but it was odd,” Bucky tried to explain. “And I couldn’t hear it near her chest. I only heard it when I got lower.”

 

Steve winced. “Okay, yeah, I get it,” Steve held up his hand, hoping to stop his friend before he said things he couldn’t unhear.

 

“Clint said she’s fine, but he wouldn’t tell me what’s wrong, said I had to talk to her,” Bucky further explained. “But I don’t believe him- I gotta go get Bruce or somebody to take a look-”

 

But he stopped when Steve put his hand on his arm and gave him a strange look. “It was steady and rhythmic? Really fast?”

 

Bucky nodded.

 

“... and you could only hear it when you were at her, uh,” Steve paused, searching for words for a moment, “Lower abdomen?”

 

Bucky nodded again, more slowly this time. He frowned questioningly as Steve’s expression fought back a grin.

 

“Steve, just tell me what the hell you’re getting at before I lose it,” Bucky demanded.

 

Steve couldn’t stop the grin as it spread on his face. “Did it sound like a heartbeat?”

 

“No, I already told you it was too fast and-”

 

“Buck… Are you sure it didn’t sound like another heartbeat?” Steve emphasized the word, giving Bucky a very pointed look and raising his eyebrow.

 

For a moment Bucky looked angry. He rose from the stool, frustration bubbling, and he took a breath, ready to shout, because Steve apparently wasn’t listening and now he was practically laughing and-

 

“Oh, shit,” Bucky basically whispered, and he stumbled back, promptly slumping onto the stool once again.

 

“Congrats, pal, I think you’re gonna be a dad,” Steve said with a chuckle.

 

Bucky couldn’t form words. He stared at the floor as the idea sunk in, trying to reorganize his thoughts. Slowly, he lifted his eyes to Steve again. Steve grinned back at him.

 

“Oh, my God, I think I’m gonna be a dad,” Bucky said back, like he was trying to convince himself it could be the truth, but the completely overwhelming smile that crawled slowly across his face and practically illuminated him was unmistakable.

 

Steve laughed and clapped him on the back. “I’m happy for you guys. Now, go celebrate with your girl.”

 

Bucky’s smile faltered and the reality of the situation began to set in. You hadn’t told him yet. That meant you still hadn’t figured out how you felt; or what you wanted. He chewed nervously at his lip.

 

Steve frowned. “What’s wrong, Buck, are you nervous?”

 

“She said she didn’t want this,” Bucky told him. He sat back and ran his hand through his hair a few times. “She was pretty clear that having a kid wasn’t part of her plan. I told her I was okay with that.”

 

“Maybe she changed her mind,” Steve suggested with a hopeful smile.

 

“Maybe,” Bucky half-heartedly agreed. “But, either way, I think I need to wait for her to tell me. This has to be up to her.”

 

Steve nodded and gave him a reassuring pat on the back. “You’re right, pal, it is up to her. Just give her some time and make sure she knows you’re there, whatever happens.”

 

Bucky let out a long breath. “Steve, I don’t even know what I want to happen, if I’m being honest.”

 

“You don’t have to. You just have to love her no matter what the outcome is. You can do that, right?”

 

Bucky gave him an almost offended look. “I do love her, no matter what the outcome. There’s no question.”

 

“Then that’s all you need to do. Just love her, Buck. Everything else will work itself out.”

 

“That’s good advice, Steve. When did your stubborn, dumb ass get to be so wise?” Bucky gave his friend a smirk.

 

“Right about the same time I became taller than your reckless, dumb ass,” Steve countered and they both laughed.

Chapter 14: The Last Night

When Bucky made his way back to the room, you and Clint were both passed surrounded by leftover pizza and calzone. He crossed to his side of the bed and shook Clint's shoulder. 

 

Clint blinked his eyes and sat up. “You're relieved, Barton,” Bucky said quietly. 

 

Clint nodded and climbed off the bed. Bucky picked up the takeout boxes and walked over to set them on the coffee table. 

 

“I can't believe she's sleeping again,” he remarked as he looked back at you. “I guess that's normal, though, right?” He looked at Clint with raised eyebrows. 

 

Clint narrowed his eyes and was clearly going to reply he didn't know what Bucky meant, but he was cut off. 

 

“I know she's pregnant,” Bucky stated. “I figured it out- well, actually I guess Steve figured it out.”

 

Clint sighed, a serious look on his face. “Listen, man, I know she's your wife and I can't tell you what to do, but I'm asking you; don't try to confront her. Let her come to you.”

 

“I know. I will,” Bucky replied. He watched you peacefully sleep for a moment before turning to face Clint. 

 

“Thank you,” Bucky said. “I know I don't always act like it, but it means a lot to me that you look out for her.”

 

“I'll always look out for her, Barnes,” Clint said with a clap to Bucky's shoulder. “That's what dads do. You might even find out for yourself. I guess we'll see.”

 

Clint patted him on the shoulder once more and left. 

 

Bucky decided not to wake you and instead went to take a shower. He had just stepped under the water when he heard the creak of the door being opened. You came into view and sat on the countertop opposite the shower stall. 

 

“Is Steve still mad at you?” You asked. You noticed his ring was sitting next to the sink and you picked it up, turning it over in your hands. 

 

“No, he's over it,” Bucky answered as he ducked his head under the water. He ran his hands through his hair. It was getting longer again.

 

“That's good,” you absently replied as you ran your fingers over the surface of his ring. There were cracks and divots in the metal, a straight up chunk taken out of one part. “What the hell happened to your ring?”

 

“My guess is it can't stand up to the beating my vibranium arm takes, unfortunately,” he replied. “Maybe I can have a vibranium one made, or maybe Shuri can design a modification for my arm that incorporates a ring.”

 

“That's a good idea,” you mindlessly replied. But you were barely listening because he was rubbing soap all over his naked, god-like frame as you watched and it was destroying your ability to form thoughts.

 

You slid from the counter and stood in front of the shower door. Bucky turned to look at you, popping an eyebrow. You bit your lip as you watched him.

 

“Doll?” He asked.

 

You grabbed your T-shirt and pulled it off, shedding your shorts and panties just as quickly. Bucky followed your movements as you opened the door and stepped in beside him. You stepped closer and wound your arms around his neck. He set his hands on your hips. You gave him a sultry smile, looking at him through your lashes.

 

“You looked lonely,” you purred.

 

Bucky cracked a crooked smile. “Good thing you're here to keep me company, then, huh?”

 

You hummed and leaned up to press a kiss to the corner of his jaw. His grip on your hips tightened and he pulled you closer, flush against him. You moved to bury your face in the crook of his neck and his hands slid around to the small of your back. Bucky leaned his head against yours and you heard him asking Friday to play music. 

 

A familiar soft tune floated quietly through the air. Bucky started swaying the two of you gently as the water continued to cascade over your bodies. You turned to lay your head on his shoulder, quietly singing along with the song.

 

“I don't tell you enough how much I love the sound of your voice,” Bucky said.

 

You smiled against his skin with a muted laugh. “That's a good line, Buck. I don't think you've used that one before.” You picked your head up to look at him again with a knowing grin. “But, you do know I'm your wife which means you don't have to feed me lines to get laid anymore, right?”

 

Bucky dropped his mouth open, a look of mock-hurt on his face. “Feed you lines? That hurts, baby,” he gave you an exaggerated pout, which made you laugh.

 

“I've seen you do it. Don't deny it,” you insisted.

 

Bucky grinned before he bent his knees, slid his hands to the backs of your thighs, and lifted you to rest on his hips. Your legs wound around him and he pressed your back to the tiles. 

 

“Alright,” he yielded. “Maybe I've been known to use a line here or there.”

 

You smirked as you draped your arms over his shoulders. “I'm not saying they didn't work.”

 

“Either way that wasn't a line,” he reiterated. He bent his neck to kiss along the side of yours.

 

You softly moaned when his lips met the crook of your neck and you dug your fingers into his shoulders, trying to pull him closer. He laid his tongue against your skin and licked a line down to your collarbone and back which made you whine and you rolled your hips against his. 

 

“Maybe it wasn't, but the result is the same, apparently,” you mused. You moaned again when you felt his hand between your bodies, stroking you and lightly rubbing your clit. 

 

Bucky just groaned as you reached down and wrapped your hand around his cock, giving him strong strokes as you tried to encourage him toward your entrance. He moved his hand back to your thigh and pushed his hips forward, sliding into you with ease as you moaned his name. 

 

He paused and rested his forehead against yours. “We fit so perfect, doll, like we were made for each other,” he whispered. “God, I can't believe how much time we wasted when we could have had this.”

 

He emphasized his words with a sharp thrust of his hips and you let out a strangled cry.

 

“Believe me, I think we've been making up for lost time,” you replied. 

 

But he was too distracted by the feel of your walls squeezing him as he continued to rail you against the wall to respond. You moaned and whined, grabbing at his hair as he thrust you into the tiles.

 

“I want you, doll. No matter what,” he rasped, as his pace began to stutter. “You know that, baby, don't you?”

 

You couldn't barely get enough breath with the way he was relentlessly pounding you, but you managed to open your eyes and meet his. His face was so pleading, begging you to believe him. 

 

You moved your hands from his hair to cage his face. “I know, Buck.”

 

He smiled and then his thrusts got impossibly harder and a moment later you were unraveling, screaming his name as it echoed against the tiled walls. He wasn't far behind.

 

He held you close, breathing deeply, tangled together for what felt like a lifetime, before finally setting you back on your feet.

 

You smiled at him before wrapping your arms around his torso and laying your cheek to his chest. You felt his arms enveloping your shoulders and his chin resting on your head.

 

“Goddamnit, I love you, Bucky Barnes,” you giggled. 

 

“I love you, too, YN Barnes,” he breathed.

 

You stayed there for a long time just holding each other, taking a beat to appreciate what you had found when you sat on the brink of chaos.

 

You eventually told Bucky you were getting water logged and you both got out. As you wrapped yourself in a towel, your eyes landed on his ring on the vanity again and you had an idea. You picked it up and headed out to your dresser and started searching through boxes and drawers. 

 

“What're you looking for?” Bucky asked, coming to stand by you as he wrapped a towel around his hips. 

 

“This,” you replied, turning back to him. You held out your hand to show a long braided silver chain. 

 

You unclasped the chain and threaded it through his ring. You coupled the clasp again and held it out to him. “Until we can get something that holds up better in battle,” you suggested.

 

Bucky gave you a soft smile. He reached out and took the chain, but to your surprise, he held it open and slipped it over your head.

 

“How ‘bout you hang on to it for me, doll,” he countered. “We're going to Wakanda in a couple weeks anyway, to start testing that procedure to remove Vision’s stone. I'll talk to Shuri then.”

 

“Alright,” you agreed. You absently ran your fingers over the ring as it hung at your chest.

 

You tilted your head and offered a little half grin. “I think we should just spend the rest of the day in bed. Just you and me.”

 

Bucky gave you a cocky grin. “Just you and me? You don't wanna invite Clint or Sam, make it a party?”

 

You snorted. “I know you and Sam have some great chemistry,” you teased and Bucky scrunched his face up in disgust. You laughed and ran your hands up his arms to rest on his shoulders. 

 

“Oh yeah, what about you and Clint? Maybe this whole daddy/daughter thing is just code for some kinky shit,” he teased back as he grabbed your waist and pulled you toward him. 

 

You really snorted at that, plunking your head against his chest as laughter overtook you.

 

“Buck, that's just plain horrifying,” you breathed through giggles.

 

“So is the thought of me and Sam, so it serves you right,” he retorted. “But I think just you and me for the rest of the day is a great idea.”

 

You couldn't have known that would be the last night you shared before the world as you knew it was erased.

 

***

 

…3 days later…

 

You stared at the ramp as it dropped to the ground, unsure if you could compel yourself to walk forward. Across the field you could see the white farm house. You thought about those inside, waiting for news. This was not the news you wanted to give. You felt weighted, heavy, burdened, and you began to doubt that you could lift your own feet. You heard footfalls and felt an equally heavy presence stop at your side.

 

“How are we supposed to tell them?” You asked as you stared at the house in the distance.

 

“The same way we've done everything else; together,” Steve replied.

Chapter 15: Losing Together

You stared at the ramp as it dropped to the ground, unsure if you could compel yourself to walk forward. Across the field you could see the white farm house. You thought about those inside, waiting for news. This was not the news you wanted to give. You felt weighted, heavy, burdened, and you began to doubt that you could lift your own feet. You heard footfalls and felt an equally heavy presence stop at your side.

 

“How are we supposed to tell them?” You asked as you stared at the house in the distance.

 

“The same way we've done everything else; together,” Steve replied.

 

You felt tears building, again, for what felt like the thousandth time in the last 24 hours. You couldn't believe your body had anymore to give.

 

Steve reached out and took your hand, prompting you to look at him. You saw the same tears reflected back at you from his eyes. You knew, no matter what, this was going to be as painful as the moment it happened, all over again.

 

You drew yourself up with a deep breath and gave Steve a nod. Steve nodded back and you both descended the ramp. It was dark and the only thing guiding you was the lights from the windows of the house as you approached. You hadn't quite made it to the steps, when the front door swung open. You figured they must have heard the jet.

 

You and Steve were swarmed by three sets of little arms, hugging and squealing and asking questions. You looked up to see Clint leaning against the doorway. His smile vanished when he saw your eyes. 

 

“Uncle Steve, where's Mom and Dad? They didn't come with you?” Billy asked, ducking around Steve's leg to look back toward the jet.

 

You saw Steve's lip quivering and you knew he couldn't do this. You stepped over and put a hand on each twin, guiding them back to the house. “Come on, guys, let's go inside, Uncle Steve had a long day and he's tired.”

 

The twins and Nathaniel ran back through the door and you could vaguely hear Laura telling them that the popcorn was ready.

 

Steve didn't move as he watched them go. You saw a tear escape down his cheek and grabbed his shoulder, guiding him to sit on the porch swing. Clint closed the door and came to sit with you both. 

 

There was silence, thick and painful, as each of you tried to figure out how to say what needed to be said.

 

Clint cleared his throat and spoke, his voice hoarse and cracking. “Who?” He couldn't manage anything more. 

 

Steve leaned forward with his face in his hands, tears streaming steadily. “Sam,” Steve paused, his voice catching. “Vision and Wanda… and ...” 

 

You heard Clint swear under his breath as he dragged a hand down his face, leaving it over his mouth. His eyes darted between you and Steve and you saw the moment it occurred to him both of you were missing something.

 

You saw the panic and disbelief that flashed there, before the tears gathered, his face contorting with despair. He stood, pacing to the railing, turning in a circle and dragging both his hands through his hair. 

 

“Oh, God,” he breathed. “I- I should have been there- I should have- Jesus, Nat,” he fell to his knees, hand clutching his chest as he choked back sobs. 

 

You slid out of your chair to kneel in front of him, wrapping him in your arms as he cried. You turned your head to check on Steve. He was watching you both and he reached out to place a hand on Clint's shoulder. 

 

“You can't put that on yourself, Barton,” Steve told him. “This wasn't on you or any of us.”

 

You felt him nod against your shoulder. He slowly pulled his head back and cleared his throat. He turned to look at Steve and there was so much pain in his eyes you thought it might knock you over.

 

“I'm so sorry, Cap,” he said. “I can only imagine what you're going through. But I loved her too, you have to know that.”

 

Steve nodded. “I know you did,” he assured him. “She loved you too, even if her favorite way to show it was busting your balls.”

 

Steve tried to offer a weak smile and Clint did the same. You and Clint sat down again. You saw a look flash across Clint's face and he snapped his head back to you, more tears building. You held up your hand to stop him before the words could come out.

 

“I can't,” you squeaked out. “Not yet. If we say it out loud, I'll never get through the next few days.”

 

Your hand was clutching the ring hanging from your neck like a vice. You felt your vision blurring with tears and your blood rushing in your ears. You looked back at Clint, pleading that he not make you talk about the fact that Bucky was gone.

 

But before either of you could say another word, Steve was between you. He scooped you into his arms, pulling you against his body, just like he had been doing constantly for the last 24 hours, since the moment you saw Bucky turn to dust in front of you. You buried your face in his chest, determined to muffle the sobs that were escaping, hands fisting his suit, as much as they could, trying to get a grip on something. Steve tucked your head under his chin and held you tightly, knowing he was probably the only thing keeping you upright.

 

You heard Clint like he was far away as he told Steve that he and Laura would sit down with the boys and tell them about their parents. Steve told him that would be appreciated and that he had already contacted Yelena and she would be here as soon as she could. Clint asked if he could see her and Steve let him know she was on the quinjet whenever he was ready.

 

You felt Clint's hand squeezing your shoulder and you lifted your head from Steve's chest to look at him. “Kes, I'm so sorry,” he whispered. He leaned in to kiss your temple, briefly resting his forehead on yours, before going back inside. 

 

Steve didn't let go of you, just guided you both to sit back on the swing. He turned so you could comfortably rest on his chest but maintained his tight grip around you. You could feel his quiet tears slipping down to land in your hair, while yours gathered on his suit. You couldn't tell how long you sat like that, silently clinging to each other exchanging tears. Eventually, your breathing synced and there was just a calm ache remaining. 

 

“I'm pregnant,” you whispered into the silence. The words hung in the air like a verdict, like you had screamed them and they were echoing off of every surface. 

 

“He told me,” Steve finally replied. 

 

You abruptly sat up, staring at him with shock. “He couldn't have told you. He didn't know. I hadn't told him.”

 

“He knew. He just wanted to let you tell him on your own terms.”

 

You continued to stare, shock giving way to confusion. You frowned, mouth twisting, but before you could form a question, Steve answered you.

 

“He could hear the heartbeat,” Steve said. He let out a quiet, sad chuckle. “I wish you could have seen the look on his face when he told me. I've never seen him so excited.”

 

You just continued to stare, the shock taking over. You had thought he died without ever knowing. Now to find out he had, you weren't sure if it was a blessing or a curse.

 

“Steve, I didn't tell him because I didn't know if I wanted to keep it,” you finally confessed. You chewed at your lip and tucked your arms around yourself, eyes dropping to your lap. “I never wanted kids and I was upfront about that with him. Even though I knew he would have liked to have them, he chose me and said that was enough. I believed him, but when the possibility was suddenly a reality, I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to take this away from him, but I thought I would end up resenting him if I chose to keep it. I was scared he would resent me if I chose not to. I just thought I would have more time.”

 

Steve watched as you buried your face in your hands, his heart aching for you. He didn't know what this felt like. He couldn't offer any practical guidance. But he could sit here and let you lean on him. That's what he had promised his best friend and that's what he intended to do.

 

He peeled your hands from your face and held them, encouraging you to meet his gaze. “We'll just take it one step at a time. You don't have to decide anything right now, okay?”

 

You nodded. Steve gave you a thin smile. 

 

“Do you know how far along you are?” He asked. 

 

“I think 8 or 9 weeks. I haven't seen a doctor,” you admitted.

 

“It's okay,” Steve assured. He pulled you back to lay on his chest again, tucking you under his chin once more. “It doesn't have to be right now, but you should go soon.” His tone was kind but firm as he held you tight. “I promised him I would take care of you and I don't plan on breaking that promise.”

 

***

 

The next couple days were a jumbled, echoing mess of tears and heartbreak.

 

Clint and Laura broke the news to the twins and there was instant chaos, which was to be expected when two superpowered children learn their parents are never coming back. It took a day and half to find them after Tommy grabbed his brother and they bolted. Eventually, they were convinced to return to the farm. The Barton family gained two more that day.

 

Yelena arrived and there was more chaos while she screamed and threw punches, looking for someone to blame, before finally collapsing on the floor of the quinjet by Natasha’s body. You helped her back to the house and you both spent the night crying and laughing and remembering her.

 

Clint asked if it would be okay if they buried her here and Steve and Yelena agreed. There was a funeral. Everyone who was left showed up. Hardly anyone spoke.

 

Yelena left, promising to call, as she hugged you tight, and you oddly felt like you had managed to gain something even among all this loss. Kate said she had decided to stay here with Clint and the family and that she too would call. You hugged the twins and cried with them, wishing you could make it better and knowing words were useless.

 

Clint asked if you wanted to stay, reminded you that you had a home with them, and made sure you felt loved. You thanked him, but declined, reminding him that you were still searching for Tony and Peter and Stephen. And all of that aside, you couldn't leave Steve alone at the compound. You'd never be able to live with yourself. 

 

You closed the ramp of the quinjet behind you as you walked up to the front. Steve was already in the pilot's seat. He turned to look at you, hands on the controls. His jaw ticked as he fought to control his expression. 

 

“Are you sure you're ready to go back?” He asked for what had to be the tenth time that morning. 

 

“Are you?” You shot back. 

 

Steve sighed. “Probably not.” But he lifted the jet into the air, aiming you for home and all the ghosts that would haunt you once you arrived.

 

***

 

Impossibly, a few weeks later, things managed to get worse when an orange spaceship landed on the compound green. You and Steve rushed out to find Tony, half-dead and stumbling out of it. You ran to catch him as his legs gave out. 

 

Tony clutched your shoulder, eyes meeting yours and brimming with regret and tears. “I lost the kid,” he managed to get out.

 

You stopped, color draining from your face. Steve looked at you over Tony's head, worried. You shook your head and pushed the overwhelming grief aside. Get Tony help first. You could collapse later.

 

And later came, as it always did. After you got Tony medical attention, and Pepper and Morgan arrived to embrace him. After he told you about the battle for the gauntlet, about watching Peter disappear, Stephen too. After he yelled in Steve's face that we were supposed to face this together before collapsing.

 

After you and Steve spoke with the person who brought Tony home, Carol Danvers, as it turns out, and were told that she and Thor had already tracked down Thanos in an attempt to reclaim the stones, but it was too late and the stones were gone. So was Thanos, for all the good it did now.

 

After all this, you found your way back to your room. That's what it was now, just yours, no longer yours and Bucky's. You found yourself curling up on the floor at the foot of your bed, still and silent.

 

And then you collapsed in on yourself like a dying star. You screamed as you hugged your knees, hot tears coating your cheeks, your body wracking with angry, loud sobs. You could barely suck in breaths between cries and you struggled to keep from hyperventilating and passing out. 

 

Steve suddenly appeared in your doorway, panic etched into his face, chest heaving like he had run to you. He took one look at you and dashed over sliding to his knees and then rolling to sit next to you. You felt his arms lifting you off the ground and then you were sitting in his lap, still curled in on yourself. He didn't say anything, just put you in the tightest embrace he could offer without cracking your bones.

 

He listened as you sobbed and struggled for breath, clawing at your own knees, tears and snot soaking into your shirt sleeves. He held firm when you pushed against his embrace, misplaced anger and grief suddenly directed at him. He didn't budge when you screamed at him to let you go, back off, leave you the fuck alone.

 

He stayed. 

 

Your sobs subsided. Your breathing evened out. You ran out of tears. You let go of your knees, collapsing against his chest. He still didn't say anything, just ran a hand soothingly over your back. You stayed like this, silent and exhausted, minutes ticking by, perhaps hours, you couldn't tell. 

 

“Peter's gone,” you finally said, voice barely above a whisper. 

 

“I know,” Steve replied. “I'm sorry.”

 

“I can't take it anymore.” You could hear your voice shake at your words.

 

“I know.”

 

“You can't either. And I'm being selfish,” you picked your head up to look at him. “I'm so sorry. I'm just expecting you to hold me together when you lost just as much as I did. You don't need this.”

 

You tried to turn, intending to leave, but Steve wouldn't loosen his grip. You struggled against his hold again, but he still wasn't moving.

 

“Steve, please just let go. I feel awful enough without the added guilt of knowing you're ignoring your own pain to coddle me,” you pleaded.

 

Steve adamantly shook his head. “I told you; I made a promise to Bucky that day, that if anything happened to him, I'd take care of you. I'm with ya ‘til the end of the line.”

 

You furrowed your brow. “What?”

 

Steve chuckled. “It's something Bucky and I used to say, a promise to stick by each other. And now I'm saying it to you. ‘Til the end of the line, got it?”

 

You slowly nodded. “‘Til the end of the line.”

 

Steve gave you a warm smile. “Now. What do you need?”

 

You felt your stomach rumble and Steve snickered because he did too. “I assume dinner is the answer. What do you feel like? I'd offer to make something, but we both know kitchens are a dangerous place for me.”

 

You finally smiled back. “No, let's not. Can we get Chinese? I really want egg rolls.” You tilted your head thoughtfully. “And watermelon. I really want watermelon.”

 

Steve laughed, the first real laugh in weeks, he realized. He stood up, taking you with him, and set you on the bed. “Who eats egg rolls and watermelon, you weirdo.” He turned for the door, but stopped when he made a connection. He turned back to you, his face apologetic. 

 

“Yes, I imagine it's a pregnancy craving,” you replied to the unspoken question in his eyes.

 

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring it up,” Steve apologized.

 

“It's okay. I have to start acknowledging it.” You shrugged as you picked at your comforter.

 

Steve watched you, feeling concern rise in his chest. This was far too much for anyone to be coping with at once. He sat back on the bed next to you. 

 

“How about this; for tonight, I'll go get food. You take a bath and get into your comfy clothes. Then we can eat and watch a movie and you can take out every single fuzzy blanket we own because I know that makes you happy. Deal?”

 

You gave him a half smile, resting your head on his shoulder, as you let out a long, slow breath. “Deal.”

 

“Tomorrow we can tackle another problem. Maybe we can make an appointment to see the baby doctor,” he suggested with a sheepish smile.

 

You giggled, palm meeting your forehead. “The baby doctor, oh good Lord,” you mumbled.

Chapter 16: Some Semblance of Normal

And that's how life went on. You and Steve took it one day at a time as you attempted to piece together whatever was left. You kept each other fed, had a gym routine (as much as he would allow, with the baby), had movie nights, did laundry, cleaned the kitchen, whatever it took to feel some semblance of normal.

 

You made an appointment for a check up, but like everywhere else, sudden lack of staffing meant they couldn't see you for three weeks. They apologized, especially when Steve popped his head into the telehealth meeting, and said they would call you if they could possibly see you sooner. You thanked them and closed your laptop. 

 

You turned to give Steve a chastising look.

 

“What?” Steve said with fake innocence. 

 

“You know damn well what, Rogers, you made that poor nurse think she was saying no to Captain America’s unborn child. You probably gave her a mini stroke,” you replied, folding your arms in indignation.

 

Steve shrugged. “I'm not going to apologize. You need to be seen and I used the tools at my disposal.”

 

You rolled your eyes, but smiled in spite of yourself. “Yeah, well, Bucky would have done the same thing, I suppose,” you remarked. 

 

Steve tilted his head with a small half smile on his lips. “No, Bucky would have given her his Winter Soldier death glare and not taken no for an answer.”

 

You both chuckled, knowing he was right. 

 

You crossed to the countertop, turning on the espresso machine. You could practically feel Steve's indignant stare on your back. 

 

“I'm allowed to have one cup a day, I checked,” you calmly replied without looking at him.

 

“You had one this morning,” he reminded you. 

 

You huffed, stepping back from the machine, an irritated pout on your face, which of course made Steve laugh. He got up and crossed to stand next to you, reaching over to turn on the kettle.

 

“How about a cup of tea instead?” He suggested, opening the drawer where the tea was kept.

 

“Ugh, fine,” you conceded. You stepped toward the drawer, running your fingers across the boxes and bags until you found one you wanted. You plucked it and tossed it on the counter. “But just for the record, if you weren't standing here, I would have had my Americano. This kid has a super soldier for a dad. I don't think a little caffeine can make a dent.”

 

Steve was pouring the hot water in your mug, a grin on his face. “There's no reason to take chances.”

 

He reached over to grab the honey, adding some to the mug, before turning back. He placed the mug in your hand and dipped his head to kiss your cheek in one motion.

 

You both froze.

 

Steve quickly pulled back, putting a few backwards steps between you. You could see pink in his cheeks. You stood still, surprise on your face and your jaw hanging open just a touch.

 

“God, I'm sorry, I don't know what the hell I was thinking,” Steve apologized.

 

His words pulled you back and you immediately shook your head, raising a hand. “It's okay, don't worry about it. It was just a force of habit.”

 

Steve was rubbing the back of his neck. “I did that with Nat; made her a cup of tea and handed it to her with a kiss, so many times, I guess it just felt normal.”

 

You set down the mug and stepped to him again, placing your hand on his shoulder. He looked at you and you offered an understanding smile. 

 

“Look,” you began, taking a breath. “We're in a unique situation. There's no rule book for this, no right or wrong way to navigate it. Sometimes things are going to happen and we don't need to beat ourselves up about it. Sometimes the past and present get muddy. It's alright.”

 

“I know. I just…” Steve sighed, rubbing his neck again before giving you an apologetic look. “I don't ever want you to feel like I'm taking advantage of your situation- our situation.”

 

You just laughed, a real laugh, and you were grateful for it. “Steven Grant Rogers, I would never ever assume you were trying to take advantage of me. I'm not even sure you're capable of it.”

 

Steve smiled back at you. “I don't know if that's true, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't like knowing you have that kind of faith in me.”

 

“Always, Cap,” you assured him. “Now, if you won't let me have my coffee,” you gave him a glare, but he just cocked an eyebrow and stood his ground. “Then you're going to help me make coffee cake.”

 

Steve just blinked at you. “You really want me in the kitchen? That never seems to go well.”

 

“Too bad. You've gotta learn,” you insisted, opening cupboards and pulling out ingredients. “Eventually I'm going to get sick or be out of town. Are you gonna just feed our kid peanut butter sandwiches forever?”

 

You winced, realizing what you said. You turned to Steve cautiously. “I didn't mean- I'm sorry,” you tried to say but Steve shook his head, waving his hand. 

 

“Like you said, it's going to happen. No use worrying about it,” Steve dismissed.

 

“Besides, it's still our kid, in a way,” he said as he grabbed mixing bowls and set them in front of you. “Uncle Steve will be right here, every step of the way.”

 

He put an arm around your shoulder and gave you a quick hug. You looked up at him, feeling tears want to form in your eyes but you begged them not to fall.

 

“I know this isn't what you had planned for your future, but I'm really glad you're here, Steve. I don't think I could go through with this without you. Neither of us could,” you added with a hand to your belly.

 

“I'm glad I'm here too,” he assured you. He dropped his gaze to land on your hand as it caressed your stomach.

 

You saw a strange look on his face and tilted your head. “What is it?”

 

Steve was still watching your hand. “Do you think… Can I listen?”

 

Your eyes raised in surprise, that being not what you expected to hear. But you quickly nodded your head. “Of course!”

 

Steve chewed at his lip and slowly got on his knees. You turned so his head was at your lower abdomen. He looked up at you with a nervous grin and you just nodded encouragingly. 

 

You watched as Steve pressed his ear to your lower stomach. His face was etched in concentration. You watched the expression slowly turn up into a smile, a look of awe, if you didn't know better. You couldn't stop the grin that spread on your own face.

 

“Well, what do you think, Uncle Steve?” You finally asked.

 

“I can hear the heartbeat. Not that I know anything, but it sounds strong. Wow, that's incredible,” Steve quietly remarked.

 

And that's how it became a daily routine for Steve to listen to your baby's heartbeat. It gave you comfort that he could hear it. It made the whole thing feel just a little more normal when he would drop to his knees while you were making dinner and press his head to your stomach, sometimes wrapping an arm around your legs to keep you steady. It helped you forget the gaping hole left in your heart when you looked down and saw the genuine grin on Steve's face, and sometimes you couldn't help but stroke your fingers lightly through his hair. 

 

***

 

You were watching a movie the first time you saw it happen. You sat on the couch, Steve laying next to you, having fallen asleep in the first ten minutes. Suddenly, he was jerking in his sleep, face twisted in pain, his feet, which were awfully close to your stomach, kicked out, just missing you.

 

“Steve!” You yelled, grabbing his upper leg and shaking to wake him.

 

He sat up with a jolt, panting, and he was over at your side in a flash.

 

“What, what's wrong?” He asked, holding your shoulders, panicked eyes searching yours for signs of distress. 

 

“Nothing's wrong,” you soothed, placing your hands on his arms, easing them down, encouraging him to relax. “You were just having a nightmare.”

 

Steve sat back and took a deep breath. You gave him a few moments to calm down, watching as his chest started to rise and fall more slowly.

 

“I didn't know you got them too,” you said quietly. “Do you want to tell me about it?” You reached out and took his hand, your thumb stroking gently, trying to offer something grounding.

 

Steve was still staring ahead, eyes distant.

 

“We were back in Wakanda,” he finally said.

 

You nodded, feeling the same pain in your own chest. “It's alright. We're here now. It's over,” you soothed.

 

“I know, but this time it was different,” he continued. “This time it was you. I watched him choke the life out of you and I couldn't do a goddamn thing to stop it. And the baby…”

 

You picked up his hand and laid it on your lower belly. “I'm right here, Steve. We're both right here ,” you said reassuringly.

 

Steve turned to look at you and then to his hand where it rested on your stomach. He held your gaze as he slowly leaned over, placing his head where his hand was before. You watched relief wash over him.

 

He stretched back out across the couch, leaving his head in your lap, just listening to that tiny heartbeat and letting it calm his nerves. You slowly smoothed a hand over his hair and watched as his eyelids fluttered closed again.

 

You watched as his breathing evened out and he slept peacefully rested against you. You couldn't stop the ache that bloomed in your chest as you thought about how it should be Bucky laying there listening to his child's heartbeat.

 

For a moment all you could think about was how unfair everything was. The deep ache that was ever-present flared up anew and blurred your senses. You were drowning in it, the sense of emptiness that came with losing your soulmate. The rage was threatening to consume you, hot angry tears rising in your throat. 

 

Then Steve stirred. He nestled against you, and his arm came up to rest softly over your legs. You heard a barely perceivable sigh. His face was so still and peaceful.

 

And all that anger melted away. The pain stopped radiating and retreated back to the corner where you allowed it to reside. The quiet familiar ache returned and you could breathe again.

 

You begged your heart to be grateful that you weren't alone and to focus on appreciating what you still had. Like the man lying in your lap, making you feel safe and cared for. And especially the small part of Bucky that you carried with you.

 

***

 

Steve bit back a laugh when he saw you walking toward the car. You were clearly tired and irritated and held a deep frown as you sipped at a water bottle and trudged over to him in your oversized hoodie (not yours, Bucky's, it occurred to him) and, were you wearing slippers? You smacked your head against his shoulder with a loud ‘umph” and groaned. Steve did laugh at that and you shot him a glare. 

 

“I know you don't like mornings, but this is bad, even for you,” he remarked as he opened the car door and gestured for you to get in. 

 

“Why in the name of all that is holy did you agree to a 7am appointment?” You groaned again as you got in the car. You continued to glare, your eyes following as he closed your door and ran around to get in the driver's side.

 

“Because it was a week sooner,” he cheerfully replied. “It's not that bad. I'll even stop for coffee.  Will that make it better?” He couldn't keep the amused grin from his lips.

 

“No, Steven, it will not,” you replied with a bit more of a bite than necessary. “I already have to pee and I'm not allowed to. More liquid isn't the solution.”

 

Steve cringed as he pulled out of the garage. “ Steven ?” He repeated. “Only my mom and Bucky ever called me that… and only when I did something especially stupid.”

 

“At least you grasp the gravity of the situation,” you remarked, crossing your arms and looking out the window.

 

Steve chuckled as you pulled out onto the road.

 

“We'll get coffee after, then?” he offered, raising his eyebrows hopefully.

 

“Try again,” you snarked, expression unchanged.

 

“... We'll get coffee and pancakes?” Steve said, adding a little pout to his puppy dog eyes. 

 

You sighed in defeat, unable to be angry with him when he looked at you like that… and promised pancakes. “Alright, coffee and pancakes,” you agreed.

 

He smiled and absently rested his hand on your knee. Your eyes darted down to look at his hand. 

 

“Sorry, habit,” he mumbled.

 

He began to draw his hand back, but you stopped him, laying your palm on the back and holding him in place. He glanced at you, raising his brows questioningly.

 

“It's okay, you can leave it,” you said, feeling a small, bashful smile on your lips.

 

You nervously eyed his expression, but quickly relaxed when he reflected that same bashful grin. He gently squeezed your knee and you squeezed his hand in return.

 

The rest of the ride was mostly comfortable silence. As you pulled up to the building and Steve parked the car, you felt a sudden burst of anxiety and your pulse quickened.

 

Steve felt you tense under his grip. He rubbed your leg soothingly and offered a reassuring smile.

 

“It just feels like once I go in there, it's suddenly so much heavier,” you quietly admitted. “It's easy for you and me to waltz around the kitchen arguing about caffeine and joking about peanut butter sandwiches, but once I hear that heartbeat, it's not just an idea anymore.”

 

Steve turned his hand and laced his fingers through yours, gripping it tightly. “I know we've been talking like it's decided and making plans, but you can still make whatever choice you need to make. This is your decision.”

 

He paused to make sure you were looking at him and his expression was calm and kind. You tried to smile but it was shaky at best. 

 

“Yeah, but if I'm not an incubator for the only thing left of your best friend, what use do you have for me?” You tried to lighten the mood with humor, but realized as the words came out just how much you were worried it might be true.

 

Steve's eyes flashed with what you were sure was panic for a split second before it was replaced by disbelief. His hand still on the wheel flexed, like he was trying to make up his mind, but then he reached out and placed it on your cheek. 

 

“You can't possibly believe the only reason I'm still here is because you're carrying Bucky's baby,” he breathed, searching your eyes. “Please tell me you know that's not true.”

 

You offered another weak smile. “I know that's not your intention. But I can't help feeling guilty, like you're just saying for him, if not for his baby, then because you told him you would. That's so unfair to you.”

 

“Don't,” Steve said simply. He leaned forward and pressed a whispered kiss to your forehead. “I'm right where I'm supposed to be.”

 

Once inside and settled into a room, you sat waiting for the technician to come in. You tried not to nervously fidget and Steve kept reaching out to touch your arm every time he noticed you worrying your bottom lip again.

 

Minutes seemed to drag on forever until finally the tech arrived. She was young and bubbly. You saw the moment she realized who Steve was and tried not to giggle when her face reddened. She smiled at you both and explained the procedure. 

 

You reminded yourself not to hold your breath while she dragged the sensor over your abdomen. A few minutes later, there it was on the screen. She pointed out the flutter of a heartbeat. 

 

You listened as the quick rhythmic sound filled the room. It was so quiet and yet so enveloping, the way it flooded your senses and overwhelmed you. You felt tears starting and fought to hold them back. 

 

Steve reached out to take your hand. You turned your eyes from the screen and looked at him. He gave you a small, reassuring smile. It helped calm you and you looked back to the technician. 

 

“It looks like you're 13 weeks,” the tech said. She turned to offer you both another bright smile. She stood up and moved toward the door.

 

“The doctor will be in to speak with you shortly. It was a pleasure meeting you. Congratulations, mom and dad!” She gave an enthusiastic wave and was out the door before you could correct her.

 

You stared at the frozen image on the machine once she was gone. That was your baby. That was Bucky's baby. That was the only thing in existence that remained of him.

 

And without a second thought, you knew there was no possible way you could give it up. Maybe that was selfish, bringing a human being into this world to serve as a remnant of someone else, but you couldn't find it in your heart to care. You just knew you could hold onto this piece of the man you loved and you weren't letting that go. 

 

“I'm keeping it,” you said with finality. You turned back to look at Steve.

 

Steve smiled, wide and genuine. “Really?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“That's what you want; you're sure?” Steve was searching your eyes, his own earnest and hopeful.

 

You nodded firmly. “This isn't what I planned for or even wanted,” your voice caught a little and you took a steadying breath. “But I didn't plan to lose Bucky either.”

 

You took Steve's hand and placed it on your stomach, covering it with your own. “It's a gift, Steve. It's a part of him we get to keep.”

 

Steve squeezed your hand. You could see he was fighting back tears and you felt them welling in your own eyes as well.

 

“You're gonna be a great mom,” he quietly remarked. 

 

“Oh, I'll probably be a mess, but that's why we have you,” you replied.

 

“Well, of course. I can't leave my best girl,” Steve replied, tilting his head with a sweet smile.

 

Then he was out of his chair and wrapping you in a crushing embrace.

 

“Oh my God, Steve, we're gonna have a baby,” you choked out. 

 

“We sure are, sweetheart,” he agreed.

 

Neither of you stopped to question the words or their meanings as you clung to each other. You both shed tears, like you had so many times in the last weeks, but this time they were tears of joy. And that felt so damn good.

 

***

 

You could feel Steve giving you a look from across the table. You glanced at him and watched it morph from dubious to disbelieving. You pursed your lips and raised an eyebrow at him, challengingly. 

 

“You got somethin’ you want to say, Cap?” You asked as you finally set the syrup back down. 

 

Steve wiped his expression and dropped his eyes to his own plate. “Nope, not at all,” he answered, taking a bite of his breakfast. “I value my appendages,” he added with a coy smile.

 

You narrowed your eyes a bit, but ignored him and dug into your stack of pancakes. Syrup was dripping from your fork and refused to be contained, ending up on your sweatshirt. You looked down and sighed. Steve gave you a grin that you almost thought was cocky.

 

“I guess this kid has a sweet tooth,” you remarked. You tried to clean up your shirt and you heard Steve chuckle.

 

“Must get that from you. Bucky wasn't much for sweets,” Steve said thoughtfully. 

 

“I'm not really either, but Peter and my brother were. So I guess that's still my side,” you said. You gave up on the syrup stain, deciding you would have to tackle it at home. 

 

You went back to eating, but you felt an ache as you thought about all the past tense in those last few sentences. Your face must have fallen because Steve reached out to touch your arm.

 

“I'm sorry,” he apologized. “Would it be better if we didn't bring them up?”

 

You gave him a sad smile. “No, of course not. I don't want to forget. It just hurts, and it's just going to hurt. Hopefully, over time, it hurts less.”

 

“I hope so,” Steve agreed. He paused for a moment before he added, “Bucky would have been so excited to be a dad. It kills me that he won't be there.”

 

“But you will,” you gently reminded him. “Bucky would be glad for that. I know he would.”

 

Steve smiled, even though his eyes were still sad. 

 

“I think about how great Peter would have been with the baby,” you said as you went back to your pancakes. “They would have gotten into plenty of mischief, I'm sure.”

 

“I'm sure the Barton kids and the twins will be good for that,” Steve pointed out with a chuckle.

 

“Oh speaking of which, remind me to call Clint and Laura when we get home,” you tapped your chin in thought. “Or maybe I'll just wait and go visit this week.”

 

“If you want to,” Steve replied. He poked at his food, eyes on his plate. “... I could go with you? If you want me to.”

 

You watched him, his expression hesitant and you couldn't quite figure out what about. Maybe he was just offering to be polite?

 

“You don't have to, Steve. It's okay,” you replied with equal hesitance. You didn't want him to feel like he had to spend all his time with you. It's not like the world stopped spinning when you lost the battle with the Stones and people still needed Captain America.

 

Steve shifted in his seat and if you didn't know better you would have thought he looked a little disappointed, but he quickly recovered. 

 

“Alright, I guess I'll let you be Clint's problem for a few days,” he teased with a smirk. 

 

“Aren't you hilarious,” you snarked in return with your own smirk.

 

“I wonder if Nat would have been excited. She always loved spending time with Clint's kids,” you thought out loud. But you quickly darted your eyes back to Steve apologetically. “I'm sorry, I never asked if you were okay talking about her.”

 

Steve just gave you a sad smile. “It's okay. Really,” he assured you. “ We can talk about her too, just like everyone else.”

 

“But you never really do,” you pointed out. “I assumed it was too painful so I tried not to either.”

 

Steve rubbed at his neck. “Yeah it still hurts like hell every time I hear her name,” Steve confessed. “I still think about her everyday. I just don't know what to say, honestly. Talking about it isn't going to bring her back.”

 

You felt a stab of grief in your chest watching the way his eyes glossed while he talked. You reached out and grabbed his hand, holding it tight. 

 

“It may not bring her back, but it keeps her here with us,” you tenderly reminded him. “They’ll both always be a part of our lives.”

 

You offered a sad smile. “You can tell me about it, when you think of her, talk about the memories. I'll do the same when I'm thinking of Buck. How's that sound?” 

 

Steve mirrored your expression. “If this was my support group, I would say that sounds a lot like acceptance, which means we're making good progress,” he tried to give a laugh, even though it was weak and small. 

 

“As you remind everyone all the time, grief’s not linear. Let's just take the win for today,” you suggested.

 

A silence quietly crept in, both of you distracted by your thoughts. You sipped your coffee. Steve looked absently out the window. The waitress came by and asked if you wanted a refill, you almost said yes, but Steve's raised eyebrow had you declining and thanking her instead.

 

You shot him a dirty look, but you knew there was no real irritation behind it. So did he and he just smiled.

 

“As much as I want to pretend I'm annoyed with your fussing and rule following, I will say I know Bucky would have been worse,” you admitted as you drained your mug.

 

That made Steve laugh. “Yeah, I think that's probably true. He would have hovered like a mother hen and constantly played the ‘she's my wife’ card as an excuse.”

 

You laughed too, knowing he was right. “About a month in I would have told him I needed a break from his overbearing ass and gone to Bartons. I can just see it now.”

 

“And he would have followed you even though you threatened to let Clint shoot him if he didn't let you have your space.”

 

“And you and Nat would have tried to talk him out of it- well, actually, no, you would have tried to talk him out of it. Nat would have attempted to lock him in a detention cell because that's more efficient and effective than talking.”

 

Steve laughed harder. “And he would have told me to shove it up my ass, again. I think he probably would have told me that a lot, actually.”

 

“I think you're right. And I would, indeed, have let Clint shoot him; and then probably felt immediately guilty. Not Clint, though, he would be glad for an excuse to put an arrow in Bucky's ass,” you remarked with a knowing chuckle.

 

Steve gave you a half smile. “Nat was ready to be excited for you, if it was what you wanted, or be there for you if it wasn't,” he shared. “She just wanted you to be happy either way.”

 

You stared at him, puzzled for a moment. “You mean she knew?”

 

“I told her. After Bucky told me. I knew there was no sense trying to keep it from her; she would get it out of me one way or another,” Steve's eyes were wistful for a moment with the memory.

 

“Good God, I wonder who didn't know,” you remarked rhetorically, with a small shake of your head.

 

“Sam,” Steve deadpanned. “The man could not keep a secret to save his life. There was no way Bucky was going to tell him.”

 

You giggled, nodding in agreement. “I can see it now, the look on his face when he got to the Soul Realm and Bucky told him. The outrage. I would have liked to have seen that.”

 

“Me too,” Steve agreed. “You know, if the Soul Realm exists, I hope they all found each other. It would be nice to think Bucky and Nat are together, looking after each other.”

 

“Or at least fondly irritating the shit out of each other,” you added.

 

“It's nice to think Bucky is with Peter, wherever they are. Maybe my brother too, who knows. Maybe he and Bucky finally met… and he's telling him all about how insufferable I was as a teenager,” you groaned at the thought.

 

“There's no way you could have been any worse than Buck was, don't worry,” Steve guaranteed.

 

A thought occurred to you. “You knew him when he was a kid; how bad was it? Really. I want to know exactly what we're in for,” you asked. 

 

“No, you really don't, trust me,” he replied with a visible cringe.

 

You grimaced. “That bad, huh?”

 

Steve just laughed. “Maybe your genes will win that battle. We can hope.” 

 

“They better, or the kid will officially be your problem when it comes to bad behavior. You knew how to handle Bucky. Consider that training for the current assignment,” you said with a wink.

 

“Maybe it'll be a girl and we won't have to worry about as much trouble,” Steve suggested with a shrug.

 

You sighed. “First of all, Captain Rogers, girls can get into just as much trouble, if not more so- take your own girlfriend, for example- we're just sneakier about it and will pout our way out of it,” you paused and shifted in your seat. “And, secondly, you don't know what you're asking for- imagine my mouth on a tiny person with no filter and all the reckless determination- do you want to have to live with that for the next 20 something years?”

 

Steve's lips turned up in a coy grin. “I mean, I'll have you, regardless, so…”

 

Your jaw fell open and for a moment you just stared at him. “Why, Steven Grant Rogers, did you just tease me?”

 

“I believe I did,” he said proudly, sitting back against the booth and resting his arm across the top.

 

“Well played,” you praised. “You're well on your way to being a da-,” you caught yourself, faltering for just a moment. “- the fun uncle already.”

 

If Steve noticed your slip of the tongue, he chose to ignore it.

 

You announced that you needed a nap and Steve paid the bill. You fell asleep as soon as the wheels hit the road.

 

***

 

You weren't sure how much later, but you woke up back at the compound on the couch. With a groan, you stretched and sat up. Steve had draped your favorite blanket over you and you smiled as you grabbed it and tucked it in tight around your legs. You glanced around the common area but you were alone.

 

“Friday?”

 

“Good evening, Agent Barnes,” Friday responded.

 

“Where's Steve?”

 

“Captain Rogers had a meeting with Dr Banner in the city. He wanted me to inform you that he's bringing home Thai for dinner. He asked that you let him know if you want something different.”

 

“Alright. What time is it?”

 

“It's 7:04pm.”

 

You sat up further, glancing out the window and saw the sun was low.

 

“Jeez, how long have I been asleep?” You wondered aloud, but Friday answered you. 

 

“You were asleep when you arrived home, so I'm not sure exactly, but I estimate around 6 hours.”

 

Your eyes went wide. So much for a nap. That's probably more than you had slept at once since…

 

“Friday, were there any disturbances in my sleep patterns?” 

 

“No, Agent Barnes. I didn't detect any nightmares or signs of distress.”

 

You sat back again, trying to figure out what that meant, but you didn't have time before Steve was coming in, setting a bag on the kitchen counter. 

 

“Hey, you're back,” you said, getting off the couch to walk to him. You took the blanket with you, wrapping it around you like a cloak.

 

Steve was unpacking containers and setting them on the countertop. He turned and looked at you, wrapped in your blanket, sleepy, the syrup stain on your giant appropriated sweatshirt peeking out the top. And for a split second he had a thought that made his heart skip before he quickly smothered it.

 

“Sorry I left without saying anything, but I didn't want to wake you,” he apologized. He was opening the containers and held a packet in his hand.

 

“You're forgiven,” you said as you plucked a spring roll from the packet with a grin and took a bite. 

 

“I was going to warm those up,” Steve said furrowing his brow. 

 

“Warm up the rest of them,” you suggested, still grinning. You hopped up to sit on the island, feet swinging lightly as you watched him dish up plates and you munched on your stolen snack.

 

Steve put plates in the microwave and then turned back to look at you. You looked adorable, he thought, and then hated himself for it. But it was true and he couldn't stop himself from thinking it all the same.

 

“Oh, here,” he quickly said, trying to clear his head. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the sonogram from your appointment. “This got left in the car.”

 

He held it out to you. 

 

You looked at it for a moment and then had an idea. You hopped back down, snatched it from his hand and took a few steps to the fridge. You attached it with a magnet on each end, stood back and took it in.

 

This was real. This was your future.

 

You moved back and took your previous perch on the island. Steve turned around, leaning against the counter next to you bracing his arms on the edge. You both stared at the newly decorated fridge door. You leaned over and rested your head on Steve's shoulder.

 

“Well,” you said with a sigh. “Now what, Captain Rogers?”

 

Steve sighed too and rested his head on top of yours. “Now,” he echoed. “I suppose we start thinking of names.”

 

Chapter 17: Grief Brings People Together

"Wow," was all Clint could manage to say. He took a long drag off the bottle he was holding and stared at you.

 

"Yep," was all you could reply.

 

The house was dark and silent. You could hear the bugs chirping through the open window. You felt the humid night air as it crept in.

 

You waited for him to elaborate, but the silence stretched on. You sighed and put your face in your hands.

 

 "Please say something else. Your stunned silence is killing me," you begged.

 

“There's nothing for me to say, Kes, this is your decision," Clint said. He set his bottle on the table and leaned back in the chair. "Did you come here hoping I would talk you out of it?”

 

You firmly shook your head. "I didn't," you assured him. “I guess I just thought you would be excited, or maybe angry, or something. I don't know.”

 

Clint sat forward, his look calm and serious. "Are you happy?”

 

You felt a grin slowly spreading on your face. "Yeah, Hawk, I think I am.”

 

"Then I'm happy for you," Clint replied with a genuine smile.

 

He grabbed his beer bottle and sat back again and he looked lost in thought for a moment. “So what’s the plan? We could always put another little apartment in the barn. The kids would love having you here and me and Laura could help out with the baby”

 

“I appreciate that, but I think Steve would rather stay at the compound, at least for now. Maybe eventually we’ll leave, I don’t know, we haven’t gotten that far yet,” you replied.

 

Clint frowned, eyes narrowing just a little as he looked at you confused and more than a little concerned. “Why would Steve come with you?... Kes …” he paused trying to find his words. “Is this Steve’s baby?”

 

“What?!” You choked on the tea you had been sipping. “Clint, seriously? Of course not!” You struggled to keep your volume under control, not wanting to wake all the other sleeping family members.

 

Clint held up his hands apologetically. “Alright, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he stammered. “It’s just- I don’t understand. You and Steve are a package deal now? When did that happen?”

 

You shrugged a little and sipped from your mug. “We’re not exactly a ‘package deal’, we’re just sticking by each other, ya know? Bucky asked him to take care of me if anything ever happened to him. You know Steve. He takes things like that pretty seriously.”

 

“I know, and that’s sweet, but how do you feel about it? Is that what you want?”

 

“I really don’t know, Hawk. Right now I’m just glad I don’t have to do any of this alone. We found a rhythm, a way to keep going, that works for us. It’s all I have to hang on to at the moment. I’m trying not to overthink it,” you told him honestly.

 

Clint watched you thoughtfully for a moment, but he seemed to accept your reasoning.

 

“Well, anyway, maybe we’ll just fix the rest of the barn up anyway. That way you can come stay whenever you want. Steve can come too,” he added.

 

You gave him a genuine smile. “I’d love that. I’m sure the baby will love spending time with Grandpa and Grandma Hawkeye.”

 

Clint grimaced with a weak laugh. “I don’t know how Laura will feel about that- the title, not the rest.”

 

“What title?” Laura asked as she walked through the doorway. She ran her hands over Clint’s shoulders as she walked by and kissed his cheek. It made you smile, even as it brought up a fleeting memory and a flash of sadness, but it quickly faded.

 

“How do you feel about being ‘grandma’?” You asked, trying to hold back your grin.

 

Laura paused as she was joining you at the table. “Really?”

 

“Is that a good really or a bad really?” You asked, your eyebrows furrowing.

 

“Good- I’m so happy for you!” Laura exclaimed as she leaned over to give you a hug.

 

You eyed Clint over her shoulder. “See this-” you gestured to Laura’s hold on you. “- is the appropriate reaction when your daughter tells you you’re going to be a grandparent,” you snarked with a laugh.

 

Laura sat back in her chair, smiling at you. “Are you going to move into the barn? I assume Clint already offered. We can finally have the whole family together,” Laura suggested with a sincerity that made you feel warm inside.

 

“I tried, but I’m afraid Uncle Steve already laid claim to them, for now,” Clint said.

 

Laura watched you carefully for a moment, almost like she was working something out, but before you could ask what she was thinking, she shook her head and waved her hand.

 

“Alright, then you’ll just have to come visit. I wanna be able to see my first grandbaby as often as possible,” she said with a giggle. “I don’t know about grandma, though, Clint was right.”

“We’ll think of something,” you replied. “We have time.”

 

You looked down at your phone on the table when you felt it buzz. Steve's contact popped up on the screen. And you grabbed it, motioning to Clint and Laura that you would just be a minute, before ducking into the other room. 

 

Clint didn't miss the look on your face when you saw your phone light up. It was a look he'd seen before, years ago. It was directed at a different super soldier at the time.

 

He frowned and turned to look at Laura.

 

“Yeah, I saw it too,” she confirmed before he could say a word.

 

Clint ran a hand down his face and finished off the beer. “How do you think that's gonna go?”

 

“I guess it just depends. It might be a good thing for both of them. Grief brings people together all the time,” Laura replied.

 

“Or one of them might wake up down the road, realize grief was all it was, and there will be an avalanche,” Clint countered. “I don't know, Laur, I was ready to put Barnes in the ground for her if I had to, but I don't know if I have it in me to take out Captain America.”

 

Laura just laughed and patted his shoulder. “Nobody will expect you to, Hawkeye. Let's just see what happens.”

 

***

 

A few days later you were back home and having a rough morning. You woke up early, nausea rolling through you, and you were immediately throwing up. After the third time, you asked Friday to call Steve.

 

“I thought I was supposed to be over this part by now,” you complained. You decided you were finally done and sat back away from the toilet bowl.

 

Steve let go of your hair, which he had been holding out of your face. He handed you a glass of water. You gave him a weak smile and slowly sipped.

 

“I don't think this is morning sickness,” Steve said thoughtfully.

 

He noticed you were trembling a little. He reached a hand up to your forehead and winced on contact.

 

“You're burning up,” Steve said. “Come on, let's get you back to bed.

 

He stood and reached down to you. You took his hand and got to your feet, feeling shaky. Steve put an arm around you and helped you back into your bed. 

 

“I probably caught something from one of the kids,” you remarked as he was tucking your blankets around you.

 

“Probably,” he agreed. “But that means you're staying here for the time being. I'll be right back.”

 

He gently patted your leg and then he left the room. He was gone a few minutes and then returned with an armful. There were extra pillows and blankets, bottles of water and electrolyte drinks, pills, tissues, and probably other things. 

 

“Good lord, isn't that kind of overkill?” You laughed and shook your head. 

 

Steve gave you a sheepish smile as he set things down. “I haven't been sick in a while. I don't really know what the best remedies are, at this point.”

 

You laughed again. “I suppose that's fair. How about you hand me the crackers and Gatorade and bottle of Tylenol for now. You can set the rest aside. Maybe I'll need it later.”

 

Steve smiled and grabbed the items you requested. “You got it, sweetheart,” he said as he handed them to you. You saw his movements stutter as he realized what had slipped out.

 

You put your hand on his arm with a calm, reassuring smile. “It's okay,” you soothed. “I don't mind.”

 

You saw Steve relax and he grinned at you. You took the bottle and some medication and sunk back against your pillows. Steve patted your leg again and turned, taking a couple steps toward the door. 

 

“Do you have meetings today?” You asked before he got to the door. 

 

He turned back to you. “I’m not sure yet. I need to answer emails and check in with DC and the Wakandans.”

 

“Oh, okay,” you said. You chewed at your lip a little while you decided if you should say what you wanted to say. 

 

Steve watched you worrying your lip and the uncertain look on your face. He shifted his weight and looked back at you. 

 

“... I could stay and work from here,” Steve offered. 

 

You tried to seem nonchalant, but your face perked up immediately and he didn't miss it. 

 

“Yeah, okay,” you replied. “If you want to.”

 

Steve tried not to grin too wide.

 

“I'll go get my laptop,” he said and he turned to leave again.

 

Steve returned a moment later and began moving things around on the coffee table and clearing the surrounding area. He saw you watching him and he couldn’t classify the look on your face as anything other than disappointed.

 

“What’s wrong?” He asked as he fluffed a couch pillow.

 

“Nothing,” you assured him, but your eyes said differently.

 

He stood up and watched you for a moment, folding his arms across his chest, head tilted as he deciphered your expression. “... Do you want me to sit on the bed with you?” He tried to keep his expression even, instead of strangely hopeful, which he was surprised to find himself feeling.

 

You gave him a timid smile, eyes dropping to your hands as you fidgeted with the blanket. “It’s just… you're so warm and I’m freezing,” you explained. “Unless you don’t want to,” you quickly added. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Steve gave you a warm, disarming smile as he grabbed a blanket from the pile he had brought in. He crossed to the bed and laid it over you. For a moment, you looked embarrassed, assuming that was his kind way of telling you no.

 

“I have a video conference in 20 minutes and I doubt you want to be on video right now,” Steve explained.

 

You visibly relaxed and gave him an appreciative smile. “No, I certainly do not,” you affirmed. You winced as something else occurred to you. “And we probably don’t need them seeing us lounging in bed together.”

 

Steve tensed for a second as he was tucking the blanket around you and a look you couldn’t quite place flashed in his eyes, but quickly disappeared. He gave a quiet, weak chuckle.

 

“I suppose not,” he agreed. “Not that it’s any of their business.”

 

You chewed at your lip for a minute, trying to decide if you should say anything else. You knew you had both been choosing to ignore things and eventually you would have to talk about it. But you weren’t ready to deal with the fallout so you stayed silent.

 

“Once I’m done with the call, I’ll come be your living hot water bottle, promise,” Steve said. He gave your legs an affectionate squeeze where you tucked in the blanket one last time and then crossed to sit on the couch.

 

You watched him absently for a few minutes as he opened his laptop and shuffled some papers around on the coffee table. He said he was going to get a cup of coffee and he returned with a mug for himself and handed one to you as well. He gave you a knowing grin when you realized it was just tea and he apologized, stating you were sick and needed to sleep, not get caffeine jitters. You stuck your tongue out at him and he snickered.

 

The holograms for the video call started flickering into view a few minutes later, but you were asleep by the time everyone started talking.

 

When you woke, you found yourself kicking at your blankets, trying to reach cool air because you felt about a million degrees too warm. You managed to free yourself from the covers and you laid on your back, letting the heat dissipate. You felt movement at your side and turned your head to see Steve sitting back against the headboard, his laptop on his legs.

 

“Sorry,” he apologized with a shy smile. “I guess I’m a little too warm.”

 

You just smiled at him. “I used to tell Bucky he was a human furnace. Clearly it’s a side effect of the serum.” You slowly sat up and Steve reached over to prop pillows behind you. You pulled your hair off your neck and took some slow breaths.

 

Steve reached over to the nightstand on his side and grabbed a water bottle, handing it back to you. “How are you feeling?” He asked as he watched you take slow sips.

 

“My head feels clogged. It’s probably some sinus thing,” you replied as you grabbed a tissue and blew your nose.

 

You let your head fall back and groaned, followed by a brief bout of coughing. When you could breathe again, you gave Steve a forlorn look. “This is gonna seriously suck because I can’t take basically anything when it comes to cold medication.”

 

You coughed again and slumped over to rest against his shoulder with another groan. Steve patted your leg sympathetically. “What else can I do to help?”

 

“Distract me,” you replied. “I need something else to think about other than how miserable I feel.”

 

“Clint called earlier when you were sleeping. I told him you were sick. He said he just wanted to see how you were doing and to tell you they started framing the apartment in the garage this week,” Steve shared. “I was confused, though, because I thought they finished that project months ago. Hasn’t Kate been living there since, you know,” Steve trailed off.

 

“They’re calling it The Snap,” you offered. “That day. Since everything was ‘snapped’ away.”

 

Steve was quiet for a moment. “Alright, then, I guess; since the Snap.”

 

“She has,” you confirmed. “He was talking about another space they decided to renovate. He wants me and the baby to come stay with them.”

 

You felt the tension in Steve’s body as you rested against him, the way he stiffened and you heard him biting back a sound of some kind.

 

“Oh, I didn’t know,” he responded.

 

There were a few beats of silence and if you were interested in being honest with yourself, you might have admitted that you were purposely waiting to say anything more because you wanted to know how he would react. But you weren’t ready to face that reality yet.

 

He put his hands back to the keyboard on his lap and began typing. You weren’t sure how you felt about his lack of reaction, but before you could say more, he turned to look at you.

 

“Are you going to go?” Steve questioned. You could see he was carefully controlling his expression and you tried not to think about how that made you feel.

 

You gave him a small half smile. “I told him I didn’t think you would want to leave the compound.”

 

You saw a hint of relief in Steve’s eyes but he quickly returned them to his laptop, expression serious once again.

 

“You don’t have to stay because of me, you know,” Steve said quietly. “If you would rather be out there with Clint and the family, I understand.”

 

You reached over and rested a hand on his arm and he looked back at you. “You’re my family too, Steve,” you assured him. He gave you a genuine smile. “Our family,” you added, putting a hand on your stomach. There was a small but noticeable bump there now. Steve’s smile grew wider as he looked at where your hand rested.

 

“Maybe we can plan to spend summers there or something,” Steve suggested. “I’ve heard you talk about how you did that with your family when you were a kid.”

 

You tilted your head, a surprised smile curving your lips. “You remember that?”

 

Steve smiled back. “Yeah, you always looked so happy when you talked about spending time at your family’s farm. It was nice.”

 

“Well, Cap, I think that’s a great idea,” you agreed. You settled in against his shoulder and let your mind wander.

 

“What about you? What were your family traditions as a kid?” You asked.

 

Steve thought for a moment. “We used to go to Coney Island, me and Buck,” he replied and you could hear the nostalgia in his voice. “It’ll be awhile before the kid is big enough for that, though.”

 

“Still, it’s something to look forward to,” you said. “Eventually- he, she, it? Ugh I wish we could call it something other than ‘the baby’ or ‘kid’, I can’t believe we have to wait another 5 weeks to find out- but eventually we can go, when he/she/it is big enough.”

 

Steve chuckled quietly. “We could always pick a name and call it that,” he suggested. “Although, I guess that’s still gender specific, unless you want to go with something neutral.”

 

“Hmm,” you tapped his arm absently as you thought. “Either way, we should start bouncing ideas around. I don’t know why, but I have a feeling we are going to have a hard time agreeing on this.”

 

“Technically, we don’t have to. I mean, you can name him/her/it whatever you want. You’re not obligated to let me have a say in that,” Steve reminded, though he sounded hopeful just the same.

 

“Steven,” you softly scolded. You felt him involuntarily flinch, which made you laugh. You sat up and shifted so you were facing him. He gave you an uncertain look and it made you smile in spite of yourself.

 

“I’m clearly in trouble,” he remarked when he saw the look on your face.

 

“You're damn right, you're in trouble,” you replied, trying to frown but feeling it fail when you couldn’t pull the corners of your lips out of a smile. “Why would you think you don’t get a say in what we call our kid?”

 

Steve just stared at you, unsure how to respond. He thought about replying that it was because it wasn’t really his kid and he didn’t want you to feel like he was trying to replace Bucky. But he got the feeling that would get him called “Steven” again, so he kept it to himself.

 

But you must have seen the look on his face because you answered his unspoken sentence. “It’s our kid in the ways that matter, Steve.”

 

But your face fell a little as something occurred to you and you looked down, voice getting much quieter. “Unless that’s not what you want. Please don’t feel obligated to see this through with me. You don’t owe us anything.”

 

Steve felt a sharp pang of sorrow in his chest as he looked at you and he quickly set the laptop aside and reached out to take your hands. You looked up at him again and he could see how hard you were working to hold back the sting of rejection as you gave him a very weak smile.

 

“First of all, that’s just not true,” he countered. “Bucky was my brother. I owed him my life more times than I could count. The very least I could possibly do is not abandon the people he loved.”

 

He squeezed your hands tight and you battled the urge to start crying, as you found yourself doing often these days.

 

“But more than that,” he continued. “I told you this is where I wanted to be. At some point, you have to stop feeling bad and just believe me, okay?”

 

The earnest sincerity in his voice did you in and the tears slid quietly down your cheeks. Steve’s expression changed to guilt and he tugged on your hands encouraging you to come back and lean on him again. You tucked yourself under his arm as he put it around you.

 

“Okay,” you sniffled. Before you could ask he was holding a tissue box in front of you. “Thanks,” you said, your stuffy nose prominent. You blew your nose and sighed, further slumping against him.

 

“Then I’m back at my original question,” you said after a minute. “What should we name him/she/it?"

 

Steve hummed thoughtfully as he picked up his laptop and went back to whatever he was working on. “Well, are we starting with boy names or girl names?”

 

“You’re just avoiding answering the question because you think I’m gonna turn down everything you suggest,” you dryly replied.

 

Steve chuckled. “You got me.”

 

“Answer the question,” you insisted. “Or I’ll call you ‘Steven’ again.”

 

Steve flinched with a sharp laugh. “I’m gonna regret sharing that, I can see,” he said with a slight shake of his head. “We could name him after his dad,” he suggested.

 

You shuddered just a little. “I loved that man more than life itself, but I will go up in flames before I name my child ‘Bucky’.”

 

Steve laughed so abruptly he snorted and you couldn’t help but snicker with him. “That’s a strong sentiment,” Steve said through his laughter. “But I meant ‘James’.”

 

“Oh,” you chuckled. You chewed your lip as you thought about how to respond.

 

“That’s a no, then,” Steve surmised.

 

“Not necessarily,” you quickly said. “I just like more uncommon names, that’s all. But the idea of naming him after his father, if it’s a boy, is sweet. I won’t write it off just yet.”

 

Steve just nodded. “I’m not sure my suggestions will be helpful, then, if you’re looking for something uncommon. I don’t know if you've noticed, but I can be a bit old fashioned.” He titled his head and gave you a crooked grin.

 

“I have faith in you, Rogers, you’ll think of something.” You shifted a little while you thought and were very vaguely aware that you were tracing your fingertips over Steve’s forearm. You should probably stop, you told yourself. And yet you didn’t.

 

“Okay, your turn,” he flipped the question on you. “What are you thinking?”

 

You hummed as you considered. “I was honestly thinking that no matter what, the middle name should be Buchanan. That was my idea for naming it after Bucky in some way. But I hadn’t thought much further than that.”

 

“I think that’s a great idea,” Steve replied.

 

You spent the rest of the day throwing ideas around and, to Steve’s credit, he was right, you did reject almost everything he suggested. You laughed and argued. You dozed and woke and took medication and complained about the cold you were nursing and it all felt very oddly normal.

 

By the end of the day, you were standing in the kitchen staring at a whiteboard that Steve had snagged from a conference room and set up at the end of the island. The board was split into two columns with a handful of names written under each one. You got up on the island with your feet dangling again as you stared at the board. Steve was standing next to you with a dry erase marker in his hand.

 

“I always named my pets after fictional characters or my favorite places,” you shared. “Maybe we name it after a place we love? Or a character? What’s your favorite book?”

 

Steve snickered. “Recently, Lord of the Rings, but I think Bucky would find a way to come back just to murder me if I named his kid ‘Gandalf’.”

 

“How about you; what's your favorite book?”

 

“Dune. We could name him Atreides. Or Arrakis, I suppose,” you giggled.

 

“But not Paul, because that's too common, I assume,” Steve snarked with a laugh. 

 

“You're catching on, Rogers,” you praised with a smirk. 

 

“Hey, that's an idea,” Steve said. “We could use a last name as a first name. That's more uncommon.”

 

“I've thought of that in the past, actually,” you remembered with a mix of humor and sadness.  “That's a great idea.”

 

“You've thought of baby names before?” Steve asked, surprised. 

 

“Just once. A very long time ago,” you said.

 

“Well, what was the name? If you liked it, why don't we use it?” Steve suggested with a smile. 

 

You shook your head. “I do like it. But I can't use it. There's too much baggage.”

 

Steve set the marker down and turned to give you an apologetic smile. “I'm sorry I didn't mean to pry.”

 

“It's okay,” you assured him. “It's just something I don't talk about. I never even told Bucky, actually. Clint's the only one who knows.”

 

Steve nodded and walked to the counter to turn on the kettle. He had gotten in the habit of making you tea to help you sleep. 

 

“You don't have to share anything you don't want to,” he said as he pulled out mugs. “But I'm happy to listen if you do.”

 

You chewed at your cheek as you thought about his words. It might come up again. It may end up affecting you more than you could predict with your current situation. Maybe it would be wise to let Steve in. 

 

You took a deep breath. “I was in college and it's a sad story.”

 

You hopped down from the counter and crossed to him. “We better sit down because I'll probably lose it at least once before I get the whole thing out.”

 

Steve handed you your tea and kissed your cheek, just like he had every night for the past month. “I'm not going anywhere. Just start from the beginning.”

 

***

 

You took a deep breath after settling on the couch with Steve next to you. You played with the mug in your hands as you prepared to share this part of you that you had carefully locked away for so long.

 

“Before I say anything, I just have to definitively say; this is not your fault, Steve. I know that makes no sense to you now, but once it does, you have to remember that,” you adamantly insisted.

 

Steve frowned in confusion, but nodded nonetheless.

 

“Like I said, it was back in college,” you began. “It starts the same as all stories like this do; I met a guy,” you laughed a little and so did Steve. He sipped at his tea, patiently waiting for you to continue.

 

“I picked a school in the city to be closer to Peter and I planned on graduating and staying nearby. I was going to be an artist in another life. But, then I met Matt, my freshman year.”

 

“At a party?” Steve asked with a chuckle.

 

“No, we skipped that cliche,” you said snickering back. “I was walking back to my dorm one night, coming back from Peter’s, late and alone in the dark- don’t give me that look, I know it was stupid, I was young and dumb,” you defended when you saw the chastising look on his face.

 

“Anyway, I was walking across campus, by myself in the dark, and he ‘saw’ me,” you put air quotes around the word. “And he came over and offered to walk me home.”

 

Steve gave you a puzzled look.

 

“I say ‘saw’ because, that’s the thing; he couldn’t actually see me because he was blind,” you chuckled softly at the memory and you saw Steve smiling too. “And with my mouth and being like 10 or so years less experienced, I’ll give you one guess how I responded.”

 

“I’m guessing it was somewhere along the lines of ‘are you gonna smack him with your stick if I’m attacked?’ or maybe even ‘shouldn’t I be walking you home?’” Steve guessed with an amused smirk.

 

You just nodded and rolled your eyes. “That’s more or less accurate, yeah. But instead of being offended, as he very well should have been, he laughed, told me he admired my candor- yeah, he said candor, he was studying to be a lawyer; just imagine how our arguments went.”

 

Steve grimaced at the thought, face getting a little color. “I’d rather not.”

 

Your eyebrows flew to your forehead and your mouth fell. “I said arguments, Steve, not what they led to!  But it looks like you figured that out yourself.”  For a moment you were caught up in laughter and Steve sipped his tea as his face got a shade pinker.

 

“Well, anyways, he walked me home and right there on my doorstep said he would really like to see me again and asked if he could take me out for coffee the next day. And that was it. We fell fast and hard. We were making plans for after graduation; he wanted to open a practice in his home neighborhood and that worked out great with my plan to stay in the city and get my artwork noticed. This plan that I didn’t plan on was suddenly falling into place,” you paused to look at Steve. “I was gonna marry him, Steve. I would have followed him to hell and back. I almost did.”

 

Steve gave you a sympathetic look. “But you didn’t, obviously.”

 

“Two years in, we got pregnant,” you stated. You watched Steve’s demeanor become more tense and he set his jaw, carefully controlling his expressions. “We weren’t planning on it, but it happened. I had never wanted kids and I told him that, he begged me to just consider it, told me he wanted to be there and take care of us. He proposed the moment I told him.”

 

“I’m guessing you said no and it all fell apart?”

 

You smiled nostalgically. “No, actually, I said yes. I said okay let’s be parents. I told you, I would have followed him anywhere. There’s nothing that boy couldn’t have gotten me to agree to; I was completely lost in him, on top of the fact that he was a lawyer and he could argue his way into or out of anything.”

 

“So what happened, then?”

 

“The battle of New York happened,” you said. You watched him clench his jaw and he drew back just a little. “Remember what I said; not your fault.”

 

“Did he… Oh, God, please tell me you didn’t lose him that day too,” Steve all but whispered.

 

“No, not that day, but that was certainly the beginning of the end,” you replied. “Long story short, in all the chaos, we got separated. My brother didn’t make it, I was badly injured, it took three days for Matt to track me down in a hospital.”

 

You paused, taking a deep breath, your hand instinctively going to rest on the small bump of your belly. “I lost the baby.”

 

You glanced quickly at Steve and you could see the empathy and heartache in his eyes, but he stayed still, not wanting to push you over the edge.

 

“After that, nothing was ever the same. Matt folded in on himself and started shutting me out. I was screaming to be seen and just internally hemorrhaging all this pain and loss. We were too young and hurting too much to work through it. I dropped out of school and left. I didn’t even say goodbye. I joined SHIELD and met Clint a few months later. That’s why he knows. He spent a lot of time pulling me back to my feet when I first got there. That’s where his protectiveness began. I think it triggered some paternal instinct in him,” You chuckled a little as you took a sip of your tea.

 

Steve was still silent, just processing all the information you had just given him.

 

“I’m sorry you had to face all that,” Steve finally said after several moments of silence. “The fact that you’re still here, still going forward, after all these different tragedies is incredible and you don’t give yourself enough credit. I mean it.” Steve was gazing at you with a degree of sincerity that you can practically feel and it was almost overwhelming.

 

“I never thought I would be sitting here, facing this possibility again. I never wanted to, if I’m completely honest,” you gave him a sincere smile, trying to ease the concern you saw in his eyes. “But that’s the past and this is now. Things don't go like you plan, but you take the good you can find when it comes.”

 

Steve gave you a warm smile. “Did you ever look him up after you left? Get some kind of closure?”

 

You tilted your head and smiled. “Eventually, yeah. We met up one day, a couple years later. He opened his practice like he wanted, with his college roommate. He knew I was an Avenger at that point. We laughed and cried and apologized. We parted ways on good terms.”

 

“Well that’s good to hear. It’s hard to heal from something that is unfinished,” Steve replied.

 

“Is this a counseling session now, Rogers?” You raised your eyebrow, giving a wary smile.

 

He held his hand out, palm up. “Nope, no counseling. Just a thought.”

 

“But that brings me back to the suggestion of last names as first names. I think it’s a great option,” he reiterated.

 

“So do I,” you agreed. “We could call him Barton. Oh, Clint would be so stoked.”

 

Steve chuckled. “He would. Of course, then if we don’t call him Stark it’ll hurt Tony’s feelings.”

 

“Tony’s got his own kid,” you said with a cackle.

 

“We could call him Barnes, since you don’t like the idea of James,” Steve countered.

 

“It’s a nice idea, Steve, but Barnes Barnes? We can’t do that to the kid. That’s awful,” you said with a laugh that wrinkled your nose.

 

“I suppose not,” Steve agreed. He laughed along with you, maybe a little less enthusiastically.

 

Because what he didn’t say was that for just a split second he had forgotten. You had been referring to the baby as ‘ours’ for so long now, it was almost like he forgot. This baby’s last name wouldn’t be Rogers.

 

Chapter 18: Hormones

“Captain Rogers, just landed in the hangar, Agent Barnes,” Friday informed. 

 

“Thanks, Friday,” you replied, even though it was an AI and you didn't need to. Steve's politeness was rubbing off on you, it seemed.

 

Steve had been in DC the past week. Rhodey had called you all in to be part of the discussions about forming a new team, but you told Steve you weren't feeling up to getting back into things yet, so just he and Tony went.

 

Everything still seemed to be up in the air and it was unlikely to change anytime soon. Realistically, it had only been two months since the entire world was completely upended. Chances are it was going to take many more, perhaps even years, for the chaos to settle into something resembling life before.

 

Mostly you felt bad for Steve. Without the structure and familiarity of running a team and eliminating threats, he struggled for purpose. He'd been fighting for most of a century and he didn't know anything else. Settling into real life was clearly difficult for him. 

 

That's why you were glad he had started up that support group. You knew he wanted to help others and he did it in Sam's memory, but it helped him have an anchor.

 

You moved on autopilot as you continued to make dinner. Music was playing and the next song that played had you singing along, loudly. You liked to sing in the kitchen. The acoustics were excellent. 

 

You poured some broth into the pan in front of you and stirred, swaying with the beat. You were lost in what you were doing, stirring dinner on the stove and crooning a melody.

 

You didn't notice the super soldier that rested against the doorframe opposite you. Steve watched in a trance as you tilted your head up when the chorus came again.

 

“I think I'll take my whiskey ne-eeee-eat, my coffee black and my bed at 3, you're too sweet for meee, you're too sweet for me-ee-ee,” you belted out, eyes closed, letting the music inhabit you. 

 

And Steve felt his heart stop, he was sure of it. For a minute, all the pain and loss and chaos of the last two months evaporated. For a minute, there was just you and here and the sound of your voice and the sway of your body gliding across the floor. He forgot everything outside and all he knew was what it felt like to watch you and listen to you and he let it fill in all the cracks in his soul.

 

But only for a minute. 

 

Reality came quickly flooding back and he stood up straighter, shaking his head, trying to clear it of the fog and the thoughts that felt like a betrayal. He felt guilt tugging at his mind, but not for the reasons he thought he should feel it, and the feeling intensified. He ran a hand down his face, walking into the room and toward you.

 

But you continued to sing and cook and we're paying no attention, so when you abruptly turned, moving in time with the song, you spun yourself directly into Steve with a hard smack. The bowl you had been mixing slammed into him as well, sending the contents into the air and the bowl itself flying across the countertop.

 

You and Steve stared at each other in shock, both of you covered in goo. There was a beat and then you both burst into hysterical laughter. Steve's whole frame wracked as you laughed and braced against the counter trying to catch your breath.

 

“How does this keep happening?!” You all but shouted through the fits and starts.

 

“At least it wasn't scalding liquid this time,” Steve remarked, trying to get ahold of his own laughter.

 

“I'm going to have to get you a bell! Seriously, how in the name of all that is holy can someone built like a tank move with utter silence?!” You shook your head as the laughing finally started to subside.

 

“I'm not that quiet. You're just loud,” he countered with a wry smile. 

 

You frowned, eyes showing mild annoyance. “If you don't like my singing, you could just say so,” you snarked, but there was an edge of hurt that Steve didn't miss. 

 

His eyes flew up and his face twisted with regret. “Oh, no, no, that's not what I meant! I love hearing you sing,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

 

He seemed to realize that it came out much more earnestly than he intended and you watched his eyes take on just a hint of embarrassment and he snapped his mouth shut. You saw just a touch of pink in his cheeks and his eyes darted away from your face. 

 

But you just looked on with genuine surprise. “You do?” You quietly asked, feeling suddenly shy.

 

Steve's eyes darted back to you and he had an almost goofy grin on his face. “Yeah, who wouldn't, sweetheart? You have a beautiful voice.”

 

It was your turn to blush and look away.

 

Steve broke the silence first. “But my point was just that you might have heard me come over if you hadn't been singing, is all,” he clarified. His head tilted a little, like he was trying to decide if he wanted to say what he was thinking.

 

A cocky smile crept over his lips. “Besides, I recall you very specifically telling me once that I am, in fact, loud.”

 

Your eyes snapped back to him. You couldn't stop the little grin that tugged at your mouth and you knew your blush only got deeper. Your eyes were locked and for a second you felt this magnetic pull, like you needed to get closer to him.

 

Before you could lift your feet, Steve's hand reached out and swiped some of the mess from the mixing bowl off your neck with his thumb. You watched, feeling your heart skip, as he brought it to his mouth and licked it off. You suddenly felt like it was far too warm.

 

“Berries?” Steve asked. His tongue darted out to lick some off his lower lip and you felt a sudden urge to replace it with your own.

 

You were frozen in place, mind spinning, pulse racing. Steve frowned, reaching his hand out again to touch your arm. That woke you from your stupor and you practically jumped over to the sink, snapping the faucet on.

 

“You okay?” Steve's voice was laced with concern and uncertainty. 

 

“Yeah, just need to clean up the mess you made,” you tried to chuckle but it came out rather high pitched and squeaky. You rinsed your hands, ran a cloth under the cool water and began cleaning your neck and chest. You sighed when the cold cloth touched your skin, and you knew it wasn't because you were removing the residue.

 

Steve stood next to you grabbing towels and cleaning up himself as well.

 

“I went for a walk in the woods today and I came across all these wild black raspberry bushes,” you remarked, trying to fill the silence.

 

“That's great,” Steve replied. He was cleaning the counter and the floor now. “I take it I ruined dessert, then?”

 

You turned to look at Steve, on the floor, wiping up berry pie filling and you begged your mind to stop the ideas it wanted to conjure with that image. It was the pregnancy. It had to be. Your hormones were playing tricks on you. You swallowed and tried to give an amused grin. 

 

“Well, you're wearing most of it, so,” you replied and gestured toward his white shirt that was absolutely covered in bright purple berry juice. 

 

He glanced down at his shirt as he stood. “Well that's not good,” he mumbled. He reached back and tugged it over his head.

 

You forcefully bit your tongue to contain the noise your body wanted to make when he stood in front of you with his naked chest at eye level. What was happening?

 

The look on your face must have given you away because he backed up a little. But you saw what looked like just the very slightest hint of a smirk on his lips before he composed his features.

 

“Are you sure you're okay? You seem kind of jumpy,” Steve asked again.

 

He eyed you cautiously. He watched your gaze drift to his biceps as he crossed his arms and the muscles popped. He saw your eyes dilate and he could hear the increase in your heart rate. He tried not to react to the way he saw you reacting to him. Steve opened his mouth, but a crackling in a pan snapped you both back and you darted over to the stove. 

 

“Shit!” You cursed, pulling the pan off the burner and turning it off. 

 

“Language,” Steve jibed. He laughed when you shot him a look. 

 

“Well, that was dinner,” you sighed, tossing the pan in the sink, the contents a charred mess. 

 

Steve gave you a contrite look. “That's on me too, sorry,” he apologized.

 

You gave him a questioning look “I don't think you can take credit for burning the chicken. Unless you turned the heat up when I wasn't looking.”

 

You were putting ingredients back in the fridge, having given up on cooking. You closed the door and turned back, finding Steve was much closer than you had left him. You yelped in surprise and dropped the onion in your hand. Steve caught it. 

 

“Taking off my shirt is kind of the same thing,” he said with a breathy laugh. 

 

Your mind felt unfocused. You furrowed your brow. “The same thing as what?”

 

He gave a weak half grin as he turned to set the onion in the basket on the island. “As turning up the heat,” he replied.

 

That pulled you back and you scrambled to continue tidying the kitchen. “Nothing I haven't seen before,” you mumbled as you grabbed the surface cleaner out of the cupboard. 

 

Steve moved to the sink and started scouring the scorched pan. “Yeah, but this time it seemed to upset you.”

 

“I'm not upset, Steve,” you said pointedly as you wiped down surfaces.

 

“You know I can hear your heart rate and… detect other physiological changes in people, right?” He asked not with sarcasm, but with caution.

 

It was obvious he noticed the way you were reacting to him and he was trying to delicately say so without being a dick. You appreciated that, but it didn't make it any less awkward. You sighed and stopped your cleaning, leaning back against the counter. 

 

“You didn't upset me. It wasn't that,” you bit your lip, nervous about what might happen if you said it out loud. You sighed again, louder this time, head falling back against the cupboards. “I think it's just the pregnancy hormones.”

 

Steve's face turned to a concerned frown, whatever he might have been thinking replaced with worry. “Do we need to see the doctor? I'll call first thing in the morning. We can-”

 

He started spiraling a little and you groaned. “No, Steve, I don't need a doctor. It's just…”

 

Steve was drying his hands and turning to stand in front of you. “What?” He asked, all care and concern and those piercing blue eyes that were making her head swim at the moment. 

 

“Ughhh, I'm just horny, Steve, okay?!” You whined as you brought your hands up to cover your face with another groan. You knew your face was red, you could feel it, and you couldn't bear to look Steve in the eye after what you just said. Would he laugh? Would he be repulsed? But the absolute worst thought was that you might have just pushed away the person you needed most.

 

It was a matter of seconds before you felt Steve's hands gripping your upper arms. You dared to open your eyes and look at him through your fingers. He was clearly trying to hold back a smirk.

 

“I've read,” he began as he reached out to peel your hands away from your face. “That's normal when you get to the second trimester.”

 

He held your hands gently, glancing down to watch as he ran his thumbs over your knuckles. “But I didn't mean to make things more difficult for you.”

 

You just groaned again, feeling only slightly better. “It's been fine, it's not your fault the hormones are just doing their thing. But you waltzed in here, telling me I have a beautiful voice and standing there with those pecs that could cut glass and what's a girl to do?” You laughed, dropping your chin to your chest and shaking your head.

 

Steve gave a hearty laugh and wrapped you into a hug. He rested his chin on your head and chuckled softly. “I'm sorry. I don't always think about it right away. Sometimes in my head I'm still just that 90 pound awkward kid who couldn't get a date to save his life.”

 

“Steve,” your words were muffled against his skin. 

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Pressing me against your bare chest is not helping,” you deadpanned. 

 

“Jeez, I'm sorry,” he mumbled as he pulled you away. He stepped back a little and put some distance between you. 

 

“What can I do to help, then?” He asked. 

 

You laughed so hard you snorted. “Did you just ask how you can help me with being horny?”

 

He gave a shy grin. 

 

“Steve, I know you wanna help, but unless you're offering to bend me over the kitchen counter, there's not much you can do,” you replied, continuing to quietly chuckle.

 

He didn't say anything more so you decided you should head back to your room and you would just order a pizza. Pushing off the counter, you took a couple steps, before Steve caught your arm. You stopped, looking back at him, confused. 

 

“What if I was offering?” He said quietly. 

 

You cocked your head, trying to decide if you heard him right. Maybe he was teasing? But he didn't sound like it.

 

But the only thing worse than feeling needy and lonely and confused by how you were reacting to your dead husband's best friend, was feeling like you were being offered pity sex by that same man.

 

You started to leave again. “Steve, it's okay. You don't have to do-”

 

“What if I want to?” He cut you off, using his hold on your wrist to pull you back until you were standing in front of him. “I just want to be here for you, anyway you need. If this is what you need, then I want to help.”

 

You watched his eyes closely. They were sincere, maybe even a little pleading. All those thoughts and feelings that had been quietly popping up for weeks now made their way to the front of your mind, reminding you this probably wasn't as sudden as it initially felt. And threatening to make you see this was probably more than just hormones, but you pushed that thought away. 

 

You didn't respond, but you didn't pull away either. Steve let go of your wrist, giving you an opportunity to leave, if that was what you wanted. You still didn't move. He stood up straighter, shuffled forward a few inches, and slowly and cautiously put his hands on your waist.

 

“Do you want me to let go?” He whispered as he slowly ran his hands up your sides. 

 

You shivered when his hands slid around to your back and up your spine. He gently pulled you closer, your bodies almost touching but not quite.

 

“Tell me to get my hands off you and I will,” he whispered again as he dipped his head and ran his nose across your cheek and down along your jaw. His lips just barely brushed over your chin and despite your best efforts, it drew a soft, breathy moan.

 

“I don't want you to let go,” you replied and his grip on you tightened, closing the last of the distance between your bodies. 

 

Steve gently kissed one cheek, across your nose, and then the other. Your eyes fluttered closed and you sighed, letting your hands come up to rest on his chest.

 

“Good, because I really didn't want to let go,” Steve confessed. He continued to ever so slowly place soft kisses on your face and jaw. “I don't want to lie to you, sweetheart, I've been thinking about this for a while now.”

 

“So have I,” you finally admitted, both to yourself and to him.

 

He drew back so he could look at your face. Your eyes were watery and he could see the guilt you were grappling with. His hands left your back and came up to hold your face. You leaned into him and closed your eyes. 

 

“Does that make us bad people?” You whispered.

 

“It just makes us human,” he assured you. “Caring about each other doesn't mean we loved them any less.”

 

He gently ran his thumbs across your cheeks and you hummed contentedly. You opened your eyes and he was smiling. You smiled back. 

 

“You really think my voice is beautiful?” You asked, your face turning a little bashful. 

 

Steve's smile widened just a little. “When I walked in and heard you, it made my heart skip. I couldn't believe I hadn't heard it before. You didn't see me watching you from the doorway?”

 

You shook your head no. 

 

“Well, that's good, because I was probably wearing my heart on my sleeve real bad right about then,” Steve chuckled a little. 

 

“I like the idea of that. Hope I get to see it again,” you replied with a soft smile. You tilted your head and looked thoughtful. 

 

“What is it, sweetheart?”

 

“Maybe I should sing you something from your era,” you mused.

 

Steve grimaced. “My era? Makes me sound like your grandfather.”

 

You slid your hands up his chest and around his neck, giving him a coy look. “Honey, you're older than my grandfather.”

 

Steve grimaced again, but laughed this time. “I guess it's lucky for me that you like older men.”

 

“Actually, you won't even be the oldest guy I've ever been with. I bet that's a first,” you remarked with a snicker.

 

“Does that imply that you still want me to bend you over the kitchen counter?” Steve asked, eyes darkening. You involuntarily shuddered at his words and he donned a cheshire grin.

 

He slid a hand around to the back of your head and gently tilted it up, hovering his lips just above yours. His eyes held yours for just a moment before he kissed you, deep and strong, his lips moving against your with care, like he was worried he might scare you off. He pulled away from your lips slowly and deliberately, searching your eyes for any signs that you changed your mind. 

 

“I need you to tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he said.

 

His thumb slowly ran across your bottom lip and your eyes fluttered closed. You opened them again and he was searching your face, asking for permission. You could see in his eyes that he was starting to struggle to hold back, but he was determined not to push you past any line you weren't ready to cross.

 

The problem was, you wanted to cross that line and eventually that desire and unforgiving hormones won out over your concern over fallout and residual guilt.

 

“Fuck me, Steve,” you breathed, eyes hooded and, you were sure, desperate.

 

The look on his face became immediately less controlled and he gave you a seductive grin.

 

“Language,” he breathed against you with a dark chuckle, before latching his lips to yours again.

 

This kiss was hungry and heady and his tongue ran across the seam, asking for entrance, which you granted. It was warm and surprisingly yielding as it caressed yours and he tasted vaguely of the berries from earlier. His other hand went around to the back of your neck and he tilted you further, giving him deeper access to your mouth until it felt like he was trying to consume you.

 

He pulled back to let you both breathe. Your hands tangled in the hair at the back of his neck and you pulled him closer to you as he moved his lips along your jaw and then down your neck. He nosed at your neck, encouraging you to tilt your head and he sucked hard at the spot below your jaw, surely leaving behind a mark, and you moaned, tightening your grip on his hair.

 

Steve smiled against your skin and bit another mark at the junction of your shoulder causing you to arch into him and cry out, tugging hard at his hair. He gave a dark chuckle.

 

“I figured you liked that,” he said as he kissed up your throat. “You always had marks all over. I figured you wouldn’t let him do it if you didn’t like it.”

 

He paused to suck another mark under your jaw and you moaned again, your hands moving to grip his shoulders.

 

“That's a good deduction, Cap,” you breathed as he moved his hands back down your sides and found the hem of your shirt.

 

He slipped under the fabric and lightly ran his fingers over your skin, making you shiver.

 

“I guess that’s the same reason I assume you like this.” You slipped your hands to his back and raked your nails over his skin, hard. Steve groaned and dropped his head to your shoulder, his hands under your shirt grabbing your waist and pulling you tight against him.

 

“Guess I was right too,” you chuckled.

 

“I wanna feel your skin; can I take this off?” Steve begged, tugging at your shirt.

 

You quietly laughed. “Yes, Steve, please, take off my shirt.”

 

He kissed you again as he grabbed the fabric and pulled it over your head, tossing it aside. His hands immediately climbed your upper body, softly tracing every part of you. He ran them up your spine again and you whimpered, arching into his touch, making him slowly groan. They circled back around and rested on your hips, his right one dipping down to lightly stroke over the tiny bump at your lower belly.

 

You stayed like that for a moment as he caressed your belly, your hands around his back and gripping his shoulders, listening to each other breathe. It was a tender moment and one you knew you would remember for a long time.

 

You leaned in and started kissing his chest and then his hands were everywhere again. You ran your tongue over his chest, sliding down to lick a nipple and his hands ran over your ass and squeezed, groaning loudly. You raked your nails down his back again as you licked his other nipple and he cried out.

 

“Damn, Cap, you really are loud,” you teased as you slithered your fingers across his abs and watched him tense under your touch.

 

“So are you, sweetheart, if we’re playing that game,” he retorted. He continued to knead your ass and kissed your bare shoulders, pushing your bra straps down your arms.

 

“Just take it off, Steve,” you groaned. “And you can take off my pants, and your pants, and everything else, just in case you were gonna ask me again.”

 

“You’re definitely going to be great at being a mom,” he teased as he unclipped your bra and it fell to the floor. “You have the bossy part down already.”

 

You looked up at him with a deadly glare. “If you want to keep going, you won’t say that again,” you warned.

 

Steve gave you his sad puppy dog eyes. “Alright, I’m sorry.”

 

You rolled your eyes. “That look is probably going to get me in all kinds of trouble from now on. I can already see it.”

 

Steve grinned and kissed you again. “I hope so.”

 

And then his hands were on your breasts, kneading and rolling your very sensitive nipples and in minutes he had you moaning and arching into him clawing at his shoulders, clamoring for more contact. His hands wandered down the waistband of your yoga pants and dipped beneath the fabric and you whined in anticipation. Your hands were quickly undoing his jeans. You pushed them down his hips and they dropped to the floor.

 

You reached out and palmed his erection through his boxers and he hissed, eyes squeezing shut as you stroked him through the fabric. You reached up and yanked his boxers off, his cock springing free.

 

For you a split you thought about how he differed from Bucky, less thick, but a bit longer, and you it didn’t escape you that you were maybe the only person who could ever make that comparison. But you shoved the thought aside as quickly as it came.

 

You grabbed his hard length and pumped him, earning a moan as his head dropped to your shoulder again. You continued to stroke him as you felt him shoving your pants down off your hips and they took your underwear with them. You paused your ministrations on his cock, to push and wiggle them off the rest of the way and kicked them aside. He did the same with his pants.

 

You stood naked in front of each other for a moment. Steve smiled, hooking a finger under your chin and tilting it up so he could kiss you. You rested your hands on his chest again and he hooked his around your waist, his thumbs tracing circles on your skin.

 

“I know you asked me to bend you over the counter, but I don’t think that’s a great idea, with the baby,” Steve said.

 

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Just fuck me, Steve, whichever way you,” you replied.

 

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

 

Steve gave you a cocky grin and then grabbed your thighs and lifted you up. He set you down on the counter and settled between your legs. He kissed you hard and hungry, his hands gripping tightly on your thighs as he pushed them further open. His right one traveled up until he reached your center and he stroked softly over your folds, pulling whimpers and tiny moans from you. His thumb found your clit and began rubbing slow patterns over it until you were bucking into his hand, desperate for more.

 

“I know, honey, I know, but I gotta get you ready first,” Steve cooed.

 

“In case you forgot, you’re not my first super soldier; I know what I’m in for,” you whined as he inserted two fingers into you.

 

Steve chuckled lightly as he slowly stroked your walls, scissoring his fingers. “I’m not likely to ever forget that, sweetheart,” he quietly replied.

 

You opened your eyes and it occurred to you what you had said and you immediately felt awful. “Steve, I didn’t mean- I’m sorry,” you said just above a whisper.

 

Steve just smiled and kissed you. “It’s alright, I know,” he soothed.

 

He continued to move his fingers in you and the feeling of pleasure was steadily building. You were panting as little moans continued to spill from your lips.

 

“I know you can be louder than that,” Steve encouraged, his thumb circling your clit again.

 

You gave him a wicked grin and reached down to grab his cock, pumping him hard, twisting your wrist with each stroke. His pace with his fingers faltered as you distracted him and he was groaning quietly.

 

You leaned into his ear, tugging the lobe between your lips and pulling gently. “If you wanna make me scream, Cap, you better go ahead and stick it in me.”

 

Steve groaned loudly when you tugged particularly hard on his cock. His fingers left your channel and grabbed your hips, tugging you forward to the edge of the counter. You lined him up with your entrance and he rolled his hips into yours, slowly sliding into you. You let your head fall back and groaned and once he was fully seated, he rested his head on your shoulder, breathing.

 

You wrapped your legs around him and he picked his head up. You grabbed his face and kissed him hard. His grip on your hips tightened. You dug your heels into his back, pulling him closer to you.

 

“Move, honey,” you encouraged him

 

And he did, pulling back to snap his hips back into. You gripped his shoulders and he picked up his pace, thrusting into you driving your head back against the cabinets. You were vaguely aware that without his hold on your hips, you would likely be bouncing right off the countertop. You could do very little but hang on as he pounded you, moans and whines and curses spilling from you like a waterfall.

 

You felt yourself being driven closer and closer to your climax and your walls were clenching tight around him. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he gasped, fighting to keep his pace steady as your spasming channel coaxed him toward his own release.

 

“Such language, Captain Rogers,” you teased breathlessly.

 

“Honey, I can’t hold on much longer,” he warned, but it didn’t matter because with his next thrust, he drove you apart, screaming his name as your orgasm ripped through you, white heat coursing through your veins.

 

Steve was only a moment behind, loud moans and curses and chants of your name falling from his lips as he came, his hot come coating your walls. He continued to lazily thrust into you until you both came down from your highs, panting and leaning on each other.

 

“I hope that helped alleviate your problem,” Steve said.

 

“I’ll let you know,” you said with a wry smile.

 

“Well, if not, we can always do it again,” Steve offered with a crooked smile making you both giggle.

 

***

 

You woke in a panic late that night after another nightmare. You had them pretty regularly, especially since the Snap. But you tried to count yourself lucky because they were nothing compared to the night terrors Bucky used to have, or the thrashing nightmares you knew Steve still had. 

 

You sat up swinging your legs over the bed, just trying to breathe. After you and Steve had… you ordered pizza, ate it on the couch while watching movies, chatting and laughing like you did everyday, only now there was a new element to the relationship. But you hadn't really talked much about it and surprisingly it didn't feel strange or off. You eventually fell asleep and you assumed Steve had put you in your bed because that's where you currently found yourself.

 

You sighed and got up, deciding on a cup of tea. You smirked to yourself as you thought about how you had never drank tea so often before Steve started making it for you all the time. 

 

As you walked down the hall headed for the kitchen, you passed Steve's room and you stopped. You heard shouting, almost what sounded like a struggle. You put your ear closer to the door and you heard Steve yell your name. 

 

“Friday, can you give me access to Steve's room?” You asked. 

 

“Your biometrics have already been added to Captain Rogers’ residence, Agent Barnes. You should have access.”

 

That came as a surprise, but you tucked it away for later and quietly let yourself into Steve's room. He was intermittently thrashing on the bed, mumbling and shouting. You made your way to him, knowing you needed to be careful or he could very well hurt you while he was unconscious. 

 

“Steve?” You called to him, keeping a safe distance.

 

He turned over again, a pained sound leaving his lips and there was clearly sweat beaded on his forehead.

 

You moved closer. “Steve? Steve, wake up,” you said more loudly. You carefully reached out to touch his shoulder.

 

He bolted upright with a shout, chest heaving as he gasped for air. He turned his head and saw you, eyes frantic. It took a couple seconds before his face relaxed. He bent his knees and leaned his elbows on them, hands running down his face. 

 

“I'm sorry, did I wake you?” He asked. 

 

“No, I was awake. I walked by and heard you shouting,” you explained.

 

You hesitated for a moment, but then sat on the bed. You reached out and put your hand over one of his. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding when he lifted his other hand and moved it to rest on top of yours. You let a few moments pass.

 

“Do you want to tell me what it was about?” You asked quietly. You realized you were holding your breath again as you waited for a response. 

 

Steve took a breath and exhaled. He sat back against the headboard. “It's a dream I've had for years, about when Bucky fell from the train. It's always been the same. I relive that moment and I wake up. But this time it was different.”

 

Steve paused swallowing. His eyes drifted to you, like he was afraid to say anything else.

 

“It was just a dream. No matter what happened, it wasn't real and it can't hurt you,” you reminded.

 

“This time it was me,” he said quietly. “I was hanging from the train. Bucky grabbed my arm. I thought he was pulling me up.” Steve paused, running a hand down his face. “But he told me I betrayed him. He let me fall. The pain and anger in his eyes were the last thing I saw.”

 

You tried to take a deep steadying breath as you watched the pain washing over Steve's face. “Steve,” you said, but he didn't look at you. You reached out and took his hand, lacing your fingers together firmly. “Steve, look at me. Please,’ you pleaded.

 

He finally met your eyes and you felt more relieved than you thought you would. “That didn't happen,” you said firmly. “You didn't betray Bucky. Bucky is not angry or in pain.”

 

Steve was watching you as you spoke, the fear and panic slowly dissipating. You felt him squeeze your hand and it helped you stay calm.

 

“He's just gone, Steve. There's no betrayal here. He's just gone and we're still here. We're going on with life. He wouldn't be angry about it. He'd probably be glad that the two people he loved most in life aren't alone. I think they both would.”

 

“I think so too. I have to believe that,” Steve agreed. 

 

You smiled at him, but bit your lip hesitantly. “Do you… do you want me to stay?”

 

Steve looked a little surprised. 

 

“It's okay, if you don't, no pressure,” you quickly added. “I mean I guess if you wanted to you would have stayed when you put me to bed.”

 

Steve looked a little sad, or maybe like he'd just been shot, or a little of both. It was hard to tell. 

 

“Come here,” he reached out toward you, arms wide, beckoning for you to come towards him. 

 

You crawled up the bed, sitting next to him and curling into his side, head laid on his chest. You let out a long slow breath and you felt a strong wave of relief wash over your whole body, relaxing you.

 

“I didn't stay, not because I didn't want to, but because I didn't know how you would feel. I didn't want to push you too far and scare you away. And I didn't want to hurt you,” Steve explained. 

 

“I understand,” you said. “And I appreciate it.”

 

Steve lightly stroked your arm. You ran your fingers over his chest.

 

“I know we've been avoiding it,” Steve said into the quiet, dark space. “But maybe we should talk about…” Steve shrugged, not wanting to say too much. “... This,” he finally decided. 

 

He felt you tense against him and sigh. “I'm scared,” you admitted. 

 

Steve nodded. “I know. That's okay. We'll figure it out.”

 

You sighed again. “Did you mean talk now, or in the morning?”

 

Steve chuckled. “I know better than to talk to you when you're sleep deprived and lacking espresso.”

 

He held you tight and slid both of you down to lay on the mattress. You adjusted a little and he pulled you tight against him again. 

 

“Hopefully no more nightmares,” you said with a yawn.

 

“I don't usually have them when I'm not alone,” Steve shared. 

 

“Then I guess I better not leave you alone,” you mumbled as you fell back asleep.

 

***

 

You woke again a few hours later as the first rays of light filtered in through the window. It was quiet and still. You could hear Steve breathing softly behind you, his chest pressed to your back, his arm curled protectively over your waist.

 

You gave a soft hum of contentment and pressed back against him. You closed your eyes again, intending to try to drift back to sleep for a while longer.

 

But you forgot Steve was a chronic early riser. You felt him shift behind you and he tucked his chin into the crook of your neck. 

 

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he whispered. 

 

“It's barely past sunrise,” you quietly whined. “Go back to sleep.”

 

Steve softly chuckled and kissed your neck. “I slept in as it is. I'm already late for my run.”

 

You groaned. “What was it Natasha used to call you?”

 

“Captain ‘up before the ass crack of dawn’,” Steve responded with another chuckle. 

 

“Yeah well, she was right,” you huffed. “Just stay here and go back to sleep with me, Cap. Live a little.”

 

You snuggled back against him harder to make your point and you could feel his hard cock poking at your lower back. You got another idea.

 

You reached back and put a hand on his cheek, turning your head to face him. You encouraged his face toward you and softly kissed his lips.

 

“If you're so worried about your cardio, I can think of a good way to get it in,” you whispered as you broke the kiss.

 

You saw Steve's eyes go darker and you bit your lip. You kept your eyes on him as he slowly propped himself up and moved back a little, causing you to roll to your back, since you were leaning on him.

 

“At the very least, it's a good warm up,” he whispered as he grabbed your hip and leaned in to kiss you again.

 

He moved without breaking the kiss so that he was between your legs, hovering over you. Your hands snaked up his back, digging into him when he slipped his tongue in your mouth. He pressed his knee into the apex of your thighs and you moaned into his mouth.

 

“Warm up? That's insulting, Rogers, you saying I can't properly get your heartrate up?” You countered, with mock-outrage.

 

Steve laughed, and ducked his head to kiss your cheek. “Honey, you get my heartrate up all the time,” he assured you.

 

You smiled and sighed when his lips kissed over your jaw and up to your ear. “Let me show you what else you get up,” he whispered, running the tip of his tongue over the shell of your ear. 

 

You shivered, raking your nails across his back, earning you a deep groan. “Oh, please do, Captain Rogers,” you encouraged. 

 

Steve growled when you reached down and palmed his erection through his boxer. His hands grabbed your shirt and pulled it upward and you lifted your arms so he could get it free. His eyes raked down your frame and they got a bit wider as they went. 

 

“What?” You asked. 

 

“I guess I didn't notice when you came in last night you were only wearing a T-shirt,” he chuckled, running a hand up your thigh and rubbing you through your panties. “Probably a good thing or we might not have gotten much sleep.”

 

Your hips bucked toward him as he circled your clit over the fabric. He dropped his head to your chest and kissed along your breasts. He swirled his tongue over a nipple and then closed his mouth around it, sucking gently. You let out a loud moan and rolled your hips toward him again.

 

His hand left your panties and came up to roll and pinch your other nipple. He continued licking and sucking the one he had in his mouth and he had you writhing, panting and chanting his name in minutes.

 

“Honey, I, I think- Ahhh!” You cried as you came, unexpected.

 

Steve lifted his head, staring at you with a cocky grin, eyes blown black with lust. “Fuck, that was hot,” he breathed. “God, I wanna make you do that again.”

 

He dropped his head back to your breasts and began peppering them with kisses.

 

“Maybe later,” you breathed. “Right now, I want you inside me.”

 

He moved his hand back down and slipped it inside your panties, stroking your clit hard. You cried out and bucked your hips.

 

“Oh, God, fuck me, please,” you whined. You reached down and yanked off his boxers.

 

He sat back to remove them and you slipped your panties off. He settled back between your legs again, picking your right one up and hooking it over his hip. You could feel him nudging at your entrance and you whined, trying to roll your hips toward him.

 

He smiled, putting a hand on your face and kissing you as he pushed his hips forward and entered you. He bottomed out with a groan and pulled back to rest his forehead against yours for a moment.

 

You whined and rolled your hips, seeking friction and he just chuckled at you.

 

“I had no idea you'd be so insatiable. No wonder you ended up pregnant,” he drawled, ghosting his lips across yours.

 

You glared at him, reaching back and pinching his ass, hard. He yelped but chuckled again.

 

“Keep it up and I'll go take care of this myself, Steven,” you warned. 

 

“Can't have that,” he replied, ducking his head to capture your lips again.

 

He kissed you hard and deep as he began to thrust his hips into you. You rolled yours up to meet him and your lips broke apart as you each gasped for air.

 

You carded your hands through his hair, pulling gently as you felt your release approaching. Steve cried out and bit down on your shoulder. You kept one hand clutching his hair, the other reaching down to grab his ass, guiding him into each thrust. 

 

“Steve! Oh, I'm gonna come!” you cried and promptly did so. You moaned and whispered his name as it rolled through you, slowly coming back down. 

 

Steve's hips didn't slow, his pace picking up just a little. You whined a little with the sensitivity. 

 

“Come on, honey, you can do it. Just one more,” Steve encouraged. He bent to kiss you sweetly, his thrusts increasing in intensity. You were clawing at his back, moaning, babbling nonsense. 

 

Another orgasm rushed through your body and you practically screamed. Steve groaned and his hips got sloppy and then you could feel him releasing inside you.

 

He stilled and rested his forehead on yours again. You put your hands on either side of his head, stroking his cheeks as you both tried to catch your breath.

 

“You better go on your run, Cap, you're slacking,” you teased. 

 

“Are you coming with me?” He asked with a snicker.

 

You laughed out loud, turning to reach for a glass of water. Steve shifted to let you up, grinning as he watched you. 

 

“You can't make the pregnant woman run laps and do circuits. I'm pretty sure that's against the Geneva convention,” you countered.

 

Steve sat up and took the glass of water when you handed it to him. “Maybe I'll just stay here, then,” he replied. He set the water down and grabbed you instead, pulling you close and laying you down so he could wrap around you. 

 

“I can't leave my best girl when she clearly needs cuddles,” he explained, placing a kiss to your ear.

 

You laughed, laying your arms on top of his. “Well, if you insist,” you agreed. “But this can't become a habit, Rogers, I won't have you going soft because of me.”

 

He kissed you again and nuzzled his face into the back of your neck. You ran your fingers over his arms slowly.

 

“I shouldn't pick on you; your consistent structure and routine is probably the only thing that's kept us going- kept me going- since all this happened,” you thought aloud. You turned your head so you could just barely see his face. “I'm really grateful, Steve. I mean that.”

 

“You don't have to do that, sweetheart,” he said, kissing your nose. “We're holding each other up. That's all it is. I wouldn't have done any better without you, I can promise you that.”

 

You smiled and he kissed you.

 

There was a moment of silence and you just held each other as the sun continued to climb and flood in through the window. You were starting to feel your stomach growl and you were going to suggest breakfast, when Friday interrupted. 

 

“Agent Barnes, you have an incoming call from Franklin Nelson.”

 

You bolted upright. “What?”

 

“You have an-”

 

“No no, I heard you, put it through.”

 

There was a beat of silence and a muted click. “Hello?” Your voice shook noticeably.

 

Steve sat up beside you, his face twisted with concern, his Captain-mode clearly activated. He sat still and rigid, eyes studying you intensely. 

 

“... YN?” There was an equally shaky male voice on the other end. 

 

“Foggy?” You felt your heart leaping into your throat because you knew there was only likely to be one reason he was calling you.

 

“Yeah, YN, yeah it's me,” Foggy replied. “It's, um, it's nice to hear your voice… how are you?”

 

You tried to breathe through your nose as you felt your pulse climbing exponentially. Steve put a hand on your back and you snapped your eyes to him. His face was all questions and worry. 

 

“I… I'm probably doing the same as anyone else since the Snap. Lost a lot of people. Trying to figure out what's next. How are you?- Is Matt- is he okay?” You blurted out, unable to keep up the small talk any longer.

 

You could hear Foggy sigh deeply and it sounded like he was trying not to choke. You immediately felt tears spring to your eyes.

 

“That's why I'm calling, but you were always one step ahead and you probably figured that out,” he began. “I, um-” he paused trying to steady his voice. “I saw you texted him the other day, and I just wanted to let you know… Matt's gone.”

 

The tears spilled over the brim of your eyes and fell steadily, soaking the sheet you held to your chest.

 

“I'm so sorry, YN,” Foggy said. You could hear the tears in his voice too. “Regardless of what happened, I know you loved him, and for what it's worth, he loved you too. I just didn't want you to go on not knowing.”

 

“It's okay, Foggy,” you replied, even as your voice caught on the tears. “I really appreciate you telling me. I know that was hard.”

 

Foggy sniffled and you could hear another voice, a female one, in the background, soothing him.

 

“Take care of yourself, YN.”

 

“Yeah, you too, Foggy.”

 

And then the line was dead and Friday disconnected the call.

 

You didn't move right away. You just breathed and tried to stay calm. You could feel Steve's hand rubbing your back. His presence was calm and you tried to focus on it and let it keep you grounded. 

 

“After we talked about everything the other day, I reached out to him,” you quietly explained.

 

Steve nodded.

 

You turned to look at him. “I hadn't talked to him in years,” you quickly added. “I just wanted to check on him, after everything that's happened.”

 

Steve reached out to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing your cheekbone. “You don't owe me an explanation, sweetheart,” He told you, his eyes calm and reassuring.

 

You nodded back, giving a weak smile. “I tried not to think about it when I didn't hear anything back. Matt was never great with replying to texts. But I knew this was a possibility.”

 

“It doesn't make it any easier to hear, I'm sure,” Steve acknowledged. “Loss is still loss. Deal with it however you need to.”

 

You wiped the tears from your cheeks and turned so you were facing him. 

 

“Is that what this is, Steve?” You gestured between the two of you. “Us dealing with loss however we need to?”

 

Steve frowned. “What do you mean?”

 

You sunk your head into your hands. “I just- I can't tell if what we feel is real or just grief.”

 

Steve stared at you, his eyes shifting between worried and uncertain. He sighed, dropping his head, and giving a small, reluctant shrug. “I don't know, honey, I don't have the answers. If we're honest with ourselves, it's probably a little of both.”

 

“Does that mean we should stop, go back, until we know? Or maybe if we just don't worry about it, it'll work itself out? Or-”

 

Steve cut you off abruptly, his hands grabbing hold of your head and locking you in a forceful, consuming kiss. When he finally pulled back, breathless, chest heaving, he rested his forehead on yours.

 

“Is that what you really want; to go back?” He whispered, but you could hear the sadness in his tone.

 

You pulled back just enough so you could see his face. You bit your lip, anxious and uncertain, but not for the reasons he was concerned with. 

 

“No, that's not what I want,” you answered.

 

You saw his face visibly relax and he gave you a small smile. “I don't either, sweetheart.”

 

He kissed you again, soft and sweet this time. “I can't say what's going to happen down the road, but I would like to think we're better off dealing with it together than apart.”

 

“I just worry about the fallout with the baby. What if things just fall apart? This kid will never know his dad. He can't lose his Uncle Steve too.”

 

“YN, I promise you, regardless of what happens, I'll always be here for this baby, and for you. That's not contingent upon anything. I'm not going to disappear if you decide one day to stop sleeping with me.” Steve was giving you a strong, solemn look, making sure you understood he meant what he said. 

 

You ducked your head and gave a small smile. “That's pretty hard to argue with, Cap.”

 

“Well, I'm no lawyer,” Steve said as he pressed you down against the bed. “But I am pretty good at negotiating.”

 

He gave you a crooked grin and a kiss before leaning his head down and rested his ear against your bare belly. You watched his face light up like it always did when he was listening to the baby's heartbeat. You reached out and stroked your fingers through his hair, smiling down at him, and he laid his arm across your torso. 

 

“We should at least try to figure out what exactly we want this to be before the baby comes,” you said as you continued to watch his face. “This kid is going to have a confusing enough existence without feeling like his parental figures don't know what they are to each other.”

 

Steve nodded his head and you giggled as it ticked your belly. “Then I guess we have about 6 months to decide how we feel.”

 

“Closer to five, at this point,” you corrected.

 

Steve's eyes got a little wider. “That feels so quick,” he remarked. 

 

“Easy for you to say. You don't have a foreign body rearranging your insides,” you shot back with a laugh.

 

“Is that what's happening?” Steve mused, stroking his fingers along your ribcage, making you squirm a little. “I thought that's what I was doing earlier…”

 

Steve gave you a playful smirk and ghosted his thumb across a nipple, making you quietly whimper.

 

You lifted an eyebrow and returned his expression. “I mean, if you wanna get technical about it, it's what Bucky did when he knocked me up in the first place.”

 

There was a beat of silence where you watched each other and then you were both laughing. Steve sat up and crawled over you, leaning in for a kiss, before settling at your side. You leaned over against him and he rested his head on yours. 

 

“Does it bother you that we talk about them, even like this,” you asked him. 

 

“You mean when we're lying naked in bed together? Or like when you brought him up when I had my fingers inside you?” Steve snarked, but there was no real anger behind it, but rather amusement.

 

You ran a hand down your face. “I'm so sorry, that was terrible. But yes, that's what I mean.”

 

“It's okay, sweetheart, you don't have to feel bad. I know it's not normal, talking about your exes in bed with someone new, but that's the thing, they aren't exes and this isn't normal,” Steve replied. 

 

“As long as maybe we draw the line at… comparisons,” he added thoughtfully, a bit of a grimace on his face. 

 

“Are you saying Captain America is afraid he doesn't measure up?” You cackled, watching his face. “You're a super soldier. You won't ever have anything to worry about.”

 

“Yeah, but you were married to my best friend. I'm still a man. I still have an ego, even if I'm good at keeping it in check,” Steve pointed out. 

 

You burst out laughing. “I'm going to leave that sentence and all its implications alone. But, yes, your point is taken.”

 

You tilted your head a little as you thought of something. “I know I haven't yet, but I feel like it's only fair to warn you that I could slip and call you by his name, though. It's happened before.”

 

“Wait… but you guys got together and got married practically in the same heartbeat. When would you have had a chance?”

 

“It was before we actually got together. I was in love with him for a long time before he made a move. I thought that was common knowledge.”

 

Steve was silent in thought for a moment. “Strange?”

 

“Yep.”

 

You felt his whole body grimace. “I'm sure that went over well.”

 

“And it wasn't just once. It was certainly a nail in the coffin when we called it quits. But it was just as well, because, obviously I was in love with Buck and that wasn't fair to Stephen.”

 

You sat up and looked at Steve, your expression serious. “You know I still love him, don't you? You understand that will probably never change?”

 

Steve took your hand and smiled. “Of course, honey, I know that. I would never expect anything else. I'll probably always love Nat. Like I said before, they're not exes. We didn't choose this.”

 

You sat back again, but a moment later your stomach growled. Before you could say anything, Steve sat up, scooting over to swing his legs off the bed.

 

“Sounds like the baby wants breakfast,” Steve remarked with a quiet laugh. He stood up and pulled his boxers on, going to his dresser to grab a T-shirt. 

 

“What the baby really wants is green olives, but that is not breakfast,” you groaned as you also got up. You pulled back blankets, searching for your clothing.

 

“What are you looking for?” Steve asked as he handed you your T-shirt. 

 

“My panties,” you moved pillows aside, continuing to search. “They can't have gone that far.”

 

You stood back and put your hands on your hips. “Oh well, they'll turn up.”

 

You pulled the T-shirt over your head and it fell to just barely cover you. You headed for the door.

 

“Are you leaving like that? I can see your ass,” Steve said with a smirk.

 

You shrugged. “There's no one else here. Are you opposed to seeing my ass, Captain Rogers?”

 

He chuckled and walked toward you. “Not at all,” he said, opening the door and gesturing to you to go first.

 

You walked out and he gave your ass a gentle smack as you did, making you jump and giggle. You turned around and gave him a dirty look. 

 

“Don't blame me, sweetheart, I-” Steve began, but he stopped short when he looked up and saw you frozen in place, staring straight ahead. 

 

At the other end of the hallway, looking a bit shocked, stood Clint. His jaw was slack as he stared at the two of you; half naked, coming out of the same room, and undoubtedly having just seen Steve smack your ass. There was no hiding it.

 

However, you did immediately remember that you weren't really decent and you panicked. Thankfully, Steve was thinking faster and he stepped in front of you. 

 

“Barton,” Steve said calmly, trying to gauge the reaction he was about to get.

 

Clint blinked a couple times and closed his mouth. “Cap,” he returned. He seemed to wake up a bit and a bit of a half grin crept over his face. “So, uh, this-” he vaguely gestured between you two. “- is like a thing now?”

 

“Clint!” you whined. “Can we please talk about this after I put on some clothes?!”

 

“Oh, right, right,” Clint said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I'll be in the living room.”

 

Clint turned on his heel and disappeared through a doorway.

 

“You had to say there was no one else here,” Steve sighed with a laugh.

Chapter 19: Being Honest

“I didn't know you were coming over today,” you said as you handed Clint a cup of coffee and sat next to him at the kitchen island. Steve was standing leaned against the counter, looking decidedly like he was keeping his distance in case Clint decided to take a swing at him.

 

“I didn't think I had to call before I showed up,” he replied. “Although, now I sure as hell will,” he added as he eyed Steve over his coffee mug. 

 

“I'm sorry you found out this way,” you said. “But the cat's out of the bag now, I guess.”

 

You nervously sipped at your coffee and watched Clint's face closely.

 

“What exactly am I finding out?” Clint countered, eyes bouncing between you both.

 

You and Steve glanced at each other. Steve didn't say anything and his look made it clear this was your arena, since Clint was the closest thing you had to a father. 

 

You closed your eyes, sighing quietly. “We don't really know, it's new. We're still figuring it out.”

 

Clint looked between you again. He set his mug down and crossed his arms. “Look, I'm not about to tell either of you how to play the cards we were dealt. But, Kes, I don't want to see you get hurt again, especially under the circumstances.” Clint’s eyes darted to your stomach.

 

Steve went to speak but Clint held up his finger. “Zip it, Cap, I'm talking to my daughter.”

 

Steve looked just a touch prickled, but he let it go and closed his mouth. 

 

“I know, Hawk, and I love you for it,” you assured him. “But no matter what happens, Steve's not going to abandon us.”

 

“She's right, Clint,” Steve spoke up. “You have my word.”

 

Clint gave him a long, hard look, before slowly nodding. 

 

“I hope it all works out for the best, but, Cap, I'm gonna tell you the same thing I told Barnes,” he fixed Steve with a pointed glare. “If you do anything to hurt her, I'll put you six feet under. I don't care if you are Captain America.”

 

You put a hand to your forehead and rolled your eyes. “Hawk, you have to stop threatening to murder the other men in my life.”

 

Your conversation was interrupted by your stomach growling again. “Okay, food,” you stated.

 

Before you could get up, Steve was handing you a jar of green olives. He loosened the top and set them in front of you. “I know you said it wasn't breakfast, but-” he shrugged with a shy grin. 

 

You took the jar and gave him an appreciative smile in return. “Thanks, h-” your eyes darted to Clint who was giving you a funny look. “- Steve.”

 

“Why don’t you take a shower, and I bet your dad would be only too happy to make you pancakes, since he's here,” Steve said, giving Clint a pointed look of his own.

 

You popped a couple olives in your mouth with a look of contentment. “Alright,” you agreed. 

 

“Please don't kill him while I'm gone,” you said as you got up. You kissed Clint's cheek, gave Steve a warning look to not make the situation worse, and headed for your room. 

 

Clint watched after you for a minute. “Alright, Cap, I take it back,” he relented. “I won't have to kill you.”

 

Steve snickered, turning to start taking out ingredients for pancakes. Clint walked around to meet him, grabbing a pan.

 

“Why's that, Barton? Did you decide you didn't want to go down in history as the man who assassinated Captain America?”

 

“No, that would be awesome, actually,” Clint jibed. “But, I saw the way you looked at her, and I gotta believe you wouldn't look at her like that and then go out of your way to hurt her.”

 

“Oh yeah, and how exactly did I look at her?”

 

Clint just laughed as he mixed the ingredients Steve had added to a bowl. 

 

“Like you're in love with her, you big idiot,” Clint replied.

 

***

 

After breakfast, Clint gave you a box from Laura. It was full of maternity clothes and a few other things like onesies and bibs. 

 

“She said there's plenty more we can dig out, like playpens and the crib. No sense buying everything new,” Clint said while you pawed through the contents of the box.

 

You held up a onesie that said “little archer” and smiled. “Thanks, Hawk. That's so sweet of you guys,” you said, giving him a hug. “I'm surprised you hung on to all this. I thought Laura said she was absolutely done after Nathaniel.”

 

Clint laughed. “Oh, she did, and she is, especially now that we have two more. But boxes ended up in the barn and just never made their way to donation, I guess. Maybe the universe knew we would need it.”

 

Steve walked in and sat across from you, eyeing the box at your feet. You held up the onesie. “They brought our first baby things.”

 

Steve's eyes lit up as you handed it to him and it melted your heart.

 

For a second you imagined what it would have been like to see that look on Bucky's face and you felt an ache in your chest. But it faded quickly as you watched Steve going through the other items in the box.

 

He pulled out a handful of long sleeve onesies that appeared to be all Avengers themed. He picked up the one that looked like his uniform, with the shield on the back and laughed.

 

You grabbed another one that was clearly meant to be Bucky, with one sleeve printed in the pattern of his vibranium arm. You ran your fingers over the pattern with a soft smile. 

 

“I thought you said these were Nathaniel's,” you said with a questioning raise of your eyebrows.

 

Clint nodded, but you saw the sly smile he was holding back. 

 

“Except Bucky didn't join the team until after Nathaniel was born,” you stated matter of fact. 

 

“Okay, you got me,” Clint confessed. “We saw them the other day and I couldn't resist. They're so adorable, look at the little Hawkeye one.”

 

He grabbed it out of the box and held it up. It was black and purple and, like Steve's, had his bow and quiver slung across the back. He grinned like a little kid as he held it out to you. 

 

You laughed. “It's very cute, Hawk.”

 

“I gotta get home, though,” Clint said standing. “I told Laura I would be back to help with bedtime. Getting three and four year olds to bed every night is a project, just wait and see.”

 

You and Steve both stood as well. You wrapped Clint in a hug and he kissed your head. 

 

“Love you, Kes,” he said. 

 

“Love you too, Hawk. Thank Laura for us, please,” you told him. 

 

Clint reached over, extending his hands to Steve, who shook it. “Cap.”

 

“Barton,” Steve replied with a shake of his hand. “Thank you.”

 

“Anytime. She is my kid, after all,” Clint said with a chuckle. He ruffled your hair softly and left. 

 

***

 

And that's how things went for a couple weeks. You and Steve slept in the same bed from then on, sometimes yours, but more often his. Both of you rarely had nightmares. You went back to work, minus any high impact physical training, and complained about how your back hurt. He woke up before the sun to go on runs and when he got back, most mornings, fucked you into the mattress until your legs shook.

 

You talked a little here and there about what you both wanted and how you felt and what the future might look like, but mostly you just let it be what it was and progress however it was going to progress.

 

One afternoon, you found yourself dangling over the edge of the kitchen island, staring at the whiteboard again. Steve came in from a training session and went to the fridge for water, before coming to stand beside you.

 

“How do the new recruits look?” You asked as he leaned back against the counter and chugged his water. 

 

“How do you think they look, you had them yesterday,” he countered. 

 

“Yeah, I thought they were idiots too,” you agreed with the unspoken assessment.

 

“They're just super green. They'll learn. Some of them anyway,” Steve remarked. 

 

He finished his water and watched you chew on your lip as you stared at the whiteboard.

 

“We still haven't decided,” you said.

 

“I know,” Steve replied.

 

“The appointment is tomorrow.”

 

“I know.”

 

“We said we wanted to decide by then.”

 

“I know, but if we don't, that's okay. We still technically have five months to decide.”

 

You huffed. “I don't want to be in labor and still arguing about what this kid is going to be called, Steve.”

 

“We won't,” he smiled and ducked down to kiss you. “If we get to that point, we can just name him after Barton and I'll be fine with it, promise.”

 

“Only if it's a boy, what if it's not? We don't seem to have any friends with feminine or gender neutral last names,” you complained.

 

Steve thought for a moment. “What about Parker? That could work for either, right? What do you think, hon, name it after your nephew? Would you like that?”

 

A sad smile came over your face. “I would like that,” you said, feeling your voice shake a little. “But I can't.”

 

You looked up at Steve and his brows were furrowed in confusion.

 

“That's the name Matt and I picked,” you explained. 

 

Steve's expression became apologetic and concerned. “Honey, I'm sorry, I didn't know.”

 

He turned and pulled you into a hug and you rested against his chest.

 

“It's okay. I'm alright,” you assured him.

 

He pulled back and looked at you, assessing if that was true or you were just being brave. 

 

“Honest, Steve, I'm alright.”

 

He nodded. “As long as you're sure.”

 

“What I'm sure about is the fact that we have to pick this name today. No excuses,” you replied firmly.

 

You pushed him back gently, hopping down from the counter, and walking to the whiteboard. You grabbed the marker and put a line through a name.

 

“Forgive me, Buck,” you whispered quietly as you struck out the name ‘James’.

 

You heard Steve chuckling behind you. “It's okay, he didn't like it either. That's why he never used it.”

 

“We didn't mention the idea of Romanoff yet, or would that be too much for you?” You asked cautiously. 

 

“No, I don't mind, if you like it,” Steve replied, coming up behind you and wrapping you in his arms.

 

You leaned back against him, still staring at the board. You reached out and scribbled “Romanoff” under the girl column, then brought the marker back and began tapping it on your chin.

 

Steve could feel you shifting your weight from foot to foot, fidgeting in his grasp. “Are your feet hurting again?”

 

You turned and gave him an unimpressed look. “I'm nearly five months pregnant, Steven, everything is fucking hurting.”

 

Steve grimaced, noticeably. “I guess I deserved that.”

 

“Yes, you did, that was an exceptionally stupid question,” you affirmed, reaching your hands behind you to brace your back.

 

“Go sit down on the couch, sweetheart,” Steve suggested. 

 

“No, we need to make a decision,” you said, but you continued to shift your weight uncomfortably.

 

Without another word, Steve picked you up, you squeaked slightly and he carried you over, setting you down on the couch.

 

“We can make a decision from here,” he said, kissing your cheek. 

 

He retrieved the whiteboard and set it up in front of the couch, taking a seat next to you. He grabbed your legs, pulled them up to rest in his lap and began to rub your feet.

 

“Oooh that feels good,” you said with a sigh, slumping back against the arm of the couch. 

 

“Am I forgiven or are you going to call me Steven again?” Steve asked with a wince.

 

“You're forgiven,” you said. “For now.”

 

You stared back at the whiteboard once again.

 

“Have we exhausted all the options for last names?” Steve asked as he continued to massage your feet and calves. 

 

“Probably not, but I'm drawing blanks,” you answered as you twirled the marker in your hand. 

 

“What was Matt's last name?” Steve asked after a moment of quiet. 

 

You tilted your head with a soft smile. “Murdock.”

 

“Murdock,” Steve repeated. You watched him, knowing the wheels were turning. 

 

“Do you like that as an option?” You asked him, chewing on the end of the marker.

 

“That depends; how do you feel about it? Is that too much for you?”

 

You tilted your head the other way, mulling it over. “No, I don't think so. I think it's nice, the idea of including Matt, considering everything,” you finally replied. 

 

“Do you like the name, though?” Steve asked again. You could tell he was trying not to get too excited. He was used to being shot down, at this point.

 

You smiled. “Yeah, I do, I like it.”

 

Steve smiled back. He picked your legs up and set them on the couch, standing and crossing to the board. You handed him the marker. He scribbled ‘Murdock’ under the boys column. 

 

You both stared at it for a moment.

 

“Steve.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I think that's the one.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

You smiled wider and bit your lip, feeling much more excited than you thought you would. He turned back to look at you and you shook your head.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure. That's it,” you said definitively.

 

Steve smiled back at you, gesturing for you to scoot forward on the couch and he sat behind you, letting you rest against him. 

 

“Okay, then. There's one down,” Steve said. He turned to look at you. “Murdock Buchanan.”

 

“Murdock Buchanan,” you repeated.

 

“Now we need to think of one in case it's a girl,” Steve said thoughtfully again. 

 

“Ugh, I'm so low on ideas for that and I frankly don't like anything we have so far,” you groaned. 

 

Steve just laughed as he shifted and started massaging your shoulders. “We'll think of something. How about your idea of place names?”

 

“Yeah, I like that idea,” you agreed.

 

“At the risk of being shot down again, what about Brooklyn?”

 

“That's not bad,” you said. “It's a good option.”

 

“Really?” Steve asked skeptically. 

 

You laughed. “Yes, really, Steve. I'm not going to say it's my favorite, but I don't mind it and it's certainly worth considering. Fair enough?”

 

“Alright, fair enough,” he agreed. “What about your hometown?”

 

You laughed. “I'm from nowhere interesting and it's certainly not a name worth reusing.”

 

“Then what about your favorite places? What was the name of the mountain where you got married?”

 

“That was Naches Peak. Not a great name for a baby girl, I'm afraid,” you said with a chuckle. 

 

You tapped your chin. “Upstate, well further up than here, there’s a town on a lake near where I grew up. I used to go there to paint when I was just getting into it. Hadley, was the name.”

 

“Hadley,” Steve echoed thoughtfully. 

 

“Do you like it?” You asked him. 

 

“It's lovely, hon. I like it.”

 

Steve sat forward and scribbled it on the board. 

 

“Hadley Buchanan. I think I like it too.”

 

Steve sat back, settling into the couch and you settled more comfortably against him.

 

“We have names,” you stated.

 

“We sure do, sweetheart,” Steve agreed. 

 

“Now, tomorrow needs to come so we know which one to use,” you sighed.

 

***

 

“Congratulations, mom and dad, it's a girl,” the technician told you with a smile. 

 

“A girl?” You repeated, trying to take it in. 

 

The woman kindly nodded. 

 

You turned to Steve, grinning ear to ear and you saw that same look reflected back on his face. 

 

“We're having a little girl,” you whispered. 

 

“We sure are, sweetheart,” Steve agreed, and he leaned in and kissed your forehead. 

 

The technician handed you a copy of the sonogram.

 

“Can we get another one?” You asked and she nodded again. “I wanna give one to Clint and Laura,” you explained to Steve. 

 

Steve grinned. “I'm sure they'd like that.”

 

She handed you the second copy with a warm smile.

 

“We'll see you back in four weeks. Call if you need anything before that. Have a lovely day, Captain Rogers, Mrs Rogers,” she nodded at you both and exited the room. 

 

Steve helped you off the bed and you began fixing your clothing. You had both stopped trying to correct the medical professionals, at this point, since you always saw new people and not a single one of them stopped to consider that Steve wasn't the father.

 

“I'm sorry they always do that, by the way,” Steve said.

 

You were slipping a sandal on and paused to look at him.

 

“Do what?” You asked. You walked past him to grab your bag, but he beat you to it.

 

“Assume we're together,” he explained, handing you your bag. 

 

You just shrugged. “I honestly don't even notice anymore,” you said. “Also, we are together.”

 

“I mean how they assume you're my wife and this is my baby,” he further explained. “You'd think in this day and age, they would know better.”

 

He held the door for you and you walked into the hallway.

 

“That's not even the part that bothers me,” you admitted as you stepped into the elevator.

 

Steve pressed the button for the garage and the doors closed. “So what does bother you, then?”

 

You tilted your head and put your hand on your hip. “I'm an Avenger too. But all they see is the woman on Captain America's arm. It's like it doesn't matter if I'm impressive in my own right, they think I'm having your kid and they're all swooning over how lucky I am. It sets back female progress like a hundred years is all I'm saying.”

 

“Well the joke’s on them, honey, because they don't realize, I'm the lucky one,” Steve cooed as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for a kiss.

 

He pulled back and looked down between you where your belly was just starting to prevent you from getting as close as you once could.

 

“She already wants to be the center of attention,” he said with a chuckle.

 

The elevator doors parted and Steve grabbed your hand, walking you both to the car.

 

As you pulled into traffic and started heading toward home, Steve asked if you wanted to stop anywhere on the way back.

 

“You know what I want more than anything… a butterscotch malt,” you replied.

 

Steve just laughed and turned to give you a disbelieving look before looking back to the road. “And I thought I was the old one here. I haven't had one of those since I was a kid. Does anyone even still make them?”

 

You shrugged. “I don't know, probably not, but I still want one,” you whined. “My dad used to get them for us at an old fashioned soda fountain back in Wisconsin. I think it shut down years ago.”

 

“Would you settle for a peanut butter milkshake? At least I know where to find one of those,” Steve suggested.

 

You let out an exaggerated sigh. “If I must.”

 

Steve grinned at you again, reaching out to twine his hand with yours. You looked down at your joined hands, riding in silence for a few minutes. 

 

Eventually, the question that had been sitting in the back of your mind since before you left the hospital rose to the surface.

 

“Steve?”

 

He turned to look at you, eyebrows raised. 

 

“Are we together?” You asked as you chewed nervously at your lip.

 

Steve chanced another look at you before returning his eyes to the road. He tried to decide how to respond, worried that he might push you too hard, but also wanting to make sure you didn't feel rejected.

 

“It's just that when I said it back at the hospital- that we are together- you didn't say anything,” you explained quietly, your eyes watching your hands. “I don't want to make you feel like we have to make big declarations or have labels or anything, if that's not what you want. It's okay if you're not ready. I just want to know so we can be on the same page.”

 

Steve slowly lifted your joined hands to his lips and kissed the back of yours. “Yes, we're together,” he firmly stated. “As long as that's what you want, honey, because as far as I'm concerned, that's all that matters.”

 

You smiled at him, ever the leader, putting everyone else first. That's why you knew he was going to make a good dad- uncle, you reminded yourself. 

 

“Steve, just for a moment, stop worrying about how I might react and what I want. Be honest: how do you feel and what do you want?” You asked, making sure you were calm and patient.

 

You watched Steve's jaw tick and muscles around his eyes flexed slightly. You rubbed his hand soothing, waiting for him to respond and willing yourself to let him have whatever time he needed.

 

“Okay, if you want honesty here goes,” you watched him take a steadying breath. “Yes, I want us to be together. I want to say we're a couple, and not just as in for now, while we decide if we have a future. I want a future. I want you to just move your stuff into my room and make it ours. We can put in a door and make Sam's old room the nursery. I want to raise this little girl with you, and if I'm being selfish for just one second, I really want her to call me dad, because that's what I'm starting to feel like. Because if I'm still being honest, and probably more than a little selfish, I-” Steve seemed to run out of breath as all these carefully controlled thoughts and feelings came racing out. He paused, swallowing hard, gripping tight on the wheel.

 

You swallowed too, feeling more than a little stunned. You reached out and squeezed Steve's leg. “You what, Steve? Please tell me, it's okay.”

 

He swallowed again. And turned to look at you. “I think I'm in love with you.”

 

There was just silence then. He tried to keep his breathing calm and you watched the muscles in his jaw tick over and over while his eyes stayed on the road. You kept your hand on his leg, letting him know you were still there, while you tried to process everything he had just handed you.

 

At least a whole minute went by but he couldn't take it anymore. “Honey, please say something,” he begged. “Anything. Just let me know you're still there.”

 

“I'm here, Steve,” you assured him. “I'm right here. I'm just processing.”

 

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said-” Steve tried to apologize but you stopped him.

 

“You don’t need to apologize. I asked for you to be honest and I'm glad you were. You just have to give me time to think.”

 

You looked around at where you were and had a thought. “Take the next exit. I want to show you something.”

 

***

 

“This is a nice view. How did you know this was here?” Steve asked as you stood overlooking the valley and the river below.

 

“Bucky showed it to me, the day we moved to the compound. He said he used to ride up here when he needed space to breathe. I thought we could use some now,” you replied. 

 

You sighed quietly and listened to the sound of water and the breeze through the grass. You could feel Steve shifting next to you, trying to stay calm and still. 

 

“That was a lot to take in,” you said quietly.

 

“I know, I'm sorry,” Steve replied. You saw his fingers flex, like he wanted to reach out for you, but he stopped himself. 

 

You reached out and took his hand and you heard him let out a breath he must have been holding. You laced your fingers together and you felt him gripping you tightly.

 

“Stop apologizing. I'm not going anywhere, Steve. You can breathe,” you soothed him. “I wanted to know how you really felt and I'm glad you told me.”

 

“Can you be honest and tell me how you're really feeling? Level the playing field?” He asked with a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood a little.

 

You tried to smile, but it was nervous. “Right now, if I'm being honest, I'm mostly feeling scared, for a lot of different reasons. I want to be able to say we're together, too, I know that much.”

 

“What do you think about moving in together?” Steve questioned as he tried to keep his voice even and his expression neutral. 

 

You smiled and laughed just a little. “Honey, we already live together.”

 

Steve laughed too. “You know what I mean.”

 

“Yeah, I know. I think I'm okay with that. We already sleep in the same bed every night. It would be nice to have all our stuff in one place too.” You gave him a thoughtful look. “But what if maybe we just pick one of the guest rooms and both move in there? Make it ours instead of… you know,” you turned to Steve with a shy smile, chewing at your lip a little as you waited for a response.

 

His face lit up immediately, smile growing. “I'd like that,” he said quietly, trying to control the excitement you clearly saw in his eyes. “There's already an adjoining room, actually. Tony made sure to include it for when Clint's kids visited. We can move in over there and have the nursery next door.”

 

“Okay,” you said, nodding your head. “Then let's start with that.”

 

You let go of Steve's hand and wrapped your arm around his waist instead, leaning against him. He tucked his arm around your shoulders. You stood and watched the river below peacefully running its course.

 

“Will you tell me what you're scared of?” Steve asked quietly.

 

You watched the grass move with the breeze and tried to organize your thoughts. You weren't sure you wanted to dive into all the things swimming through your mind, but you knew if you didn't keep being honest, this would never work.

 

“There's so many things I worry about; some justified, some just anxiety getting in the way,” you replied. “I know what you said, Steve, and I believe you think you feel that way about me. But everything we just went through is still so raw. I'm scared it isn't real and you're going to realize that down the road.”

 

You felt Steve nodding. “That's understandable.”

He tightened his grip around you, pulling you in closer to him.

 

“I'm scared of the same things I've always been scared of with the life we've chosen; never knowing if the next mission will be our last, the possibility that one or both of us might not come home, the idea that now, if I don't come home, or you don't, we're leaving someone behind who can't live without us,” you continued. 

 

“I worry about that too, sweetheart. It's okay to be scared. That's normal. Especially after what we've lost. But we can't control everything,” Steve reminded.

 

“I know. But I'm sure I'll never really stop being scared of that now,” you said as you rested a hand on your belly.

 

Steve reached out and put his hand on top of yours. Both your eyes rested on your hands over your little baby bump, just watching and listening to the wind and the river.

 

“She'll call you dad,” you said quietly.

 

You felt Steve tense and heard his breathing catch. “YN, you don't have to make that decision right now. That was a selfish thing for me to even say. This isn't about me and I don't want you to feel like my affection for you or for her is contingent upon something like that. It doesn't matter what she calls me; I love her either way.”

 

You smiled, nuzzling your cheek into his side. “I didn't think that, and I never would. You don't have a selfish bone in your body, Captain Rogers.”

 

Steve laughed quietly. “I very much doubt that's true, but as I've said before, I appreciate the faith you have in me.”

 

“If we're going to do this- if you're serious about us being the future you want- then she's going to call you dad. I don't think I could stop it, even if I tried, because you'll be the only dad she ever knows,” you said quietly, still watching your hands where they rested on your belly.

 

“We'll make sure she knows who her real dad was,” he assured you.

 

“You will be her real dad, Steve. That's what I'm trying to tell you. No matter what we do, Bucky will always just be a picture and a story to her. But you'll be right here, holding her hand and kissing her goodnight and letting her stand on your feet so you can dance her around the kitchen, and all the other things Bucky can't be a part of. It means first steps and first day of school and teaching her to ride a bike. But it also means not letting her sass you and putting her in time out when she's screaming and grounding her when she's a teenager and all the other things a fun uncle wouldn't do.” You turned so you were facing him, wanting to make sure your point was made.

 

“Is that what you want to sign up for? I need to know you understand and it's what you really want.”

 

Steve's face was serious and determined. He reached out and placed his palms on your cheeks, stroking lightly with his thumbs, before leaning in and tenderly kissing your forehead. 

 

“It's what I really want, sweetheart. I promise,” he swore to you. “But we'll still make sure she knows Bucky. We'll make him real to her. We'll find a way. I'm not trying to replace him, I swear, that's not what I want.”

 

“It's not replacing him; think of it like passing the baton; Bucky gave her a part of himself, gave her to us, now it's our turn. We have to take it from here,” you said. 

 

Steve gave you a small, somewhat sad smile, which you returned and he wrapped you in a hug, pressing your cheek to his chest.

 

“Steve, I really hope this is real and not just grief,” you mumbled against him.

 

“I think it is, YN,” Steve softly replied. “It's as real as anything else we've been through.”

 

“Good, because, if I'm being just as honest,” you paused to pick your head up and face him. “I think I might be in love with you too.”

Chapter 20: The Sound of Your Voice

Within a week you and Steve had moved into your new room together.

 

You started gathering baby things in what would become the nursery. The residence wing started to transform as you prepared for the arrival of this new little addition to the Avengers family.

 

One rainy afternoon, as you sat cross legged on the couch, watching Steve put together a playpen, it happened for the first time. You yelped and nearly dropped the paintbrush you were holding. 

 

“Steve!” You shouted, quickly setting your tote board aside. 

 

Steve's head snapped up and he dropped the screw driver in his hand, rushing to you. 

 

“What, what's wrong?” He asked, eyes wide as he slid to kneel in front of you. 

 

“She's kicking!” You all but squealed. “Oh my gosh, she's kicking!”

 

You took his hand and placed it on the side of your now prominent belly. You felt her kick again and Steve felt it against his palm. His eyes lit up and you thought they even got a little watery.

 

You sat there watching and feeling, just smiling together.

 

“That's just amazing,” Steve said quietly. He leaned his head down to put his ear to your belly and listen, as he so often did. But neither of you were paying enough attention and the tip of your paintbrush swiped directly across his nose and cheek.

 

He lifted his head and sat back, momentarily stunned. You looked at the bright green streak across his face and gave him an apologetic look.

 

“Oh, honey, I'm sorry,” you giggled.

 

You grabbed your rag to clean his face, but before you could, he attacked you, nuzzling his face against yours and smearing the paint between the two of you. 

 

“Steven Grant Rogers, that's not fair,” you cried, trying to push him away.

 

“Oh, I think it's more than fair,” he disagreed.

 

He pressed his lips to yours, a mess of green paint and giggles and joy; something you both sorely needed. He pulled back and you laughed again. Steve rested his forehead against yours as you both looked down at your baby bump. 

 

“Is she still moving?” He asked. 

 

“No, she's stopped for now,” you replied. “Maybe the sound of our laughter puts her to sleep. Wouldn't that be nice,” you chuckled. 

 

“We can hope,” Steve agreed. He took the rag from you, cleaning your face and then his own.

 

He set it on the coffee table behind him, then twisted back to put both hands on your belly and softly kiss it. “We can't wait to meet you, baby girl,” he whispered. 

 

You grinned as you watched him, lightly running your fingers through his hair. He looked back at you and smiled. 

 

“I guess we can start calling her by her name, then, right?” He asked as he picked up your tote board and sat next to you, placing the board with the unfinished painting on his lap. 

 

“Yeah, I was thinking about that,” you said as you cleaned your brush and set it down next to your paints. “What if we just named her Murdock, gender stereotypes be damned?”

 

Steve tilted his head, thinking about your suggestion. “I'm not opposed to the idea,” Steve said slowly. “What would we call her as a nickname? I'm sure, whether we plan to or not, we'll end up using one.”

 

“That's true. But either way, what would we use as a nickname if we call her Hadley?”

 

“I guess we didn't stop to think about that,” Steve said. One side of his mouth twisted into a wry smile. “We could just call her by her middle name for now until we figure out what we want to do.”

 

You rolled your eyes and gave him an unamused look. “We both know that if we start calling her Buchanan, inside a week, she'll be Bucky Junior.”

 

Steve smiled, laughing quietly. “I think it's cute.”

 

“It is cute, but only now, when she's little. When she's older, it won't be, and she'll hate us, and her father, for giving it to her,” you countered.

 

“Sweetheart, I think you're projecting just a little bit,” Steve pointed out with a knowing look.

 

You frowned, crossing your arms. “Maybe. But we only get one shot at naming her. I'm allowed to be particular.”

 

Steve tilted his head back and smiled again. “If Murdock is the name you want to use, then that's what we'll call her.”

 

You smiled and scooted closer to him, taking your unfinished painting back and resting it in your lap again. You stared at the picture as you thought.

 

“My only reservation, really- and I know it's silly because he's gone- but, what would Bucky think? How would he feel about me naming our daughter after my dead ex-fiance that he didn't even know about?”

 

Steve nodded thoughtfully. “I understand what you mean.” He had a nostalgic look in his eyes and a wistful smile. “It certainly couldn't be said that he wasn't the jealous type.”

 

“Even when we were only friends, he got his feathers ruffled pretty good over me and Stephen,” you remarked, remembering in a sort of amused but annoyed way. “And then once we were together, well…”

 

Steve just nodded, jaw ticking slightly. “Yeah, I knew Buck. I can imagine.”

 

You gave him an apologetic smile. “I don't think you really want to imagine. I'm sorry, that was not kind of me.”

 

“It's alright. I'm fine,” he assured you. “But if you're asking what I think, then it's this; I don't know for sure how Bucky would feel, but you're probably right, he wouldn't love the idea. I don't think that should stop us from using it, if it's what we want to use, but if you do, if you'll constantly be wondering and worrying about it, then we won't. We'll pick something else.”

 

You chewed at your lip as your fingers lightly traced the images in your painting. Steve was right, you should do what you wanted to do because, in the end, Bucky wasn't here and there was no point in letting it bother you. But still, you wondered if every time you called your daughter's name you would feel badly on some level. 

 

You looked down at your belly. “Hey, Murdock,” you said softly. 

 

To your surprise, you felt a kick again. You smiled, pressing your palm to the spot where you could feel her kicking gently against you. You looked up at Steve, biting your lip just a bit. Steve leaned over, placing his hand on yours, both of you watching your stomach. 

 

“Hi, Murdock,” Steve said, lips curling up when she kicked again, harder this time. 

 

You laughed, squirming a little with the unexpected impact. “I think she likes the sound of your voice.”

 

Steve's smile grew. “Do you like when I talk to you, baby girl?”

 

She kicked again, in quick succession, and you yelped. “Yeah, I think she definitely does,” you laughed. “That's your daddy, Steve, Murdock, do you like hearing him?”

 

You felt her move around a bit and the kicking quieted down.

 

“Maybe you should read to her, Steve. I bet she would like that,” you suggested. 

 

Steve gave you a heartfelt smile. “You know what I bet she would like?”

 

“What?” You asked, still watching your belly. 

 

But Steve was watching you and the way you looked at the little baby kicking away at your insides. And if he had any doubts when he said it a couple months ago, he didn't now; he was in love with you.

 

Steve brushed your hair out of your face and you turned to look at him, still brightly smiling. 

 

“I think she would like it if her mama sang to her,” Steve suggested. 

 

“You think so?” You asked, eyes returning to your belly, gently running your hand over it.

 

“I know so, sweetheart. She'll love listening to it as much as I do,” Steve assured you. He kissed your cheek. 

 

“Okay, but I still think you should read to her. We could read to her before bed. You're still reading Lord of the Rings. I bet she'll love it,” you chuckled. 

 

“Sounds like a plan,” Steve agreed. Then he was asking Friday to play a familiar song. 

 

You turned to look at him again, eyes a little apprehensive. “You want me to sing her our wedding song, mine and Bucky's, I mean?” You asked cautiously.

 

Steve just chuckled, tucking his arm around you and encouraging you to lean against his side. “Well I didn't think you meant yours and mine, since, as far as I can remember, we didn't get married. But yes, I thought it was a good first song. I told you; we'll find ways to make him real to her. This is a start.”

 

You gave him a touched and grateful look. “I don't think I deserve you,” you said as you snuggled into his side. 

 

“Well I know I don't deserve you, but here we are,” Steve replied. “Go ahead, honey, show Murdock how beautifully her mama can sing.”

 

You returned your eyes to your copy, hand holding it lovingly. 

 

“But now it's gettin’ late, and the moon is climbing high… I wanna celebrate, see it shinin’ in your eyes… Because I'm still in love with you, I wanna see you dance again, because I'm still in love with you… On this harvest moon…”

 

You could feel her gently moving as you sang. Eventually she quieted down and you knew she must have gone back to sleep.

 

But you kept singing, because even though he said it was for the baby, you knew it made Steve happy. You knew it brought him peace to listen to you.

 

The song ended and you asked Friday to play a new one. You scooted to the edge of the couch, preparing to stand, and Steve jumped up to help you to your feet.

 

He gave you a questioning look when you kept his hand and guided him out to the open floor space in the kitchen. 

 

“Dance with me, Cap,” you asked, turning to face him and placing his hand on your waist.

 

Steve obliged, pulling you as close as he could and swaying you when the music began again. 

 

You felt him shift a little when he heard the familiar tune.

 

“I know you like this song. I've heard you play it before,” you explained 

 

The lyrics began as he swayed you through the kitchen and you sang along, keeping your eyes on Steve. You could feel whatever barriers you had left in your heart crumbling.

 

Steve watched you as you sang to him, voice smooth and rich like a good bourbon, and he thought he might die happy if this was his very last moment. 

 

You laid your head on his chest and he tucked you under his chin as you moved with the melody and you continued to sing softly.

 

As the song was starting to come to a close, he whispered, “I love you.”

 

***

 

The next couple months went by in an almost normal fashion. Clint helped you finish putting together the nursery. He didn't need to, but you felt like he wanted to be involved. Steve eventually took you off everything but desk work, as they continued to try to rebuild SHIELD and hopefully reform an actual Avengers team. 

 

Personnel around the compound was growing again. The medical center was the first thing to fill back in, Steve made sure of it. What that meant was now you didn't have to drive to the city for check ups and when the time came, you could have the baby here, at home.

 

And that time could be any day now. 

 

You were pacing around the living room when Steve came in at the end of his day. You turned around again, walking to the other end of the living space, with an exasperated groan. Steve intercepted you on your next turn about the room, pulling you to him in a hug. 

 

“What's wrong, sweetheart?” He asked as he slowly rubbed your back.

 

“No matter what I do, I can't be comfortable for more than a few minutes. Nothing helps; standing, sitting, laying down, nothing,” you whined, plunking your forehead into his chest. 

 

“I'm sorry, love,” Steve said softly as he continued to run his hands over your back and shoulders. He felt you tense under his touch and he stilled.

 

“I'm sorry, is that making it worse?” He asked, pulling his hands back away from you. 

 

“No, it's not that,” you said. You picked your head back up to look at him. “It's just, you've never called me that before,” you chewed your lip slightly and dropped your eyes to look at his chest. “Bucky used to call me that,” you quietly explained. 

 

Steve's face fell a little. “Would you rather I didn't call you that?”

 

You thought for a moment, still worrying your lip, before taking a deep breath. “It's alright,” you decided. “I don't mind.”

 

Steve gave a gentle smile and kissed you. He felt you shifting your weight back and forth, probably starting to feel uncomfortable again. You let go of him, bracing your arms against your back as your face scrunched up in frustration. 

 

“Ughhh, I can't take it anymore,” you all but shouted. “Steve, please, just get her out of me,” you begged him as you fell forward to rest on his chest once again. 

 

He knew better, but he couldn't stop the quiet chuckle that left his lips as he watched you.

 

“I heard that,” you grumbled against his chest. “If I wasn't so tired and you weren't holding me up, I'd flip you off and storm out.”

 

Steve chuckled again. “The sentiment is understood, I promise.”

 

He encouraged you to stand back a little, then reached down and hooked his arm under your knees and picked up, carrying you over to the couch. He set you down, bracing you with pillows, trying to help you get comfortable. 

 

“It's no use. I'm just going to have to keep moving every fifteen minutes until she finally decides she's done in there,” you complained again, feeling on the verge of actual tears at this point.

 

“They said she could come any day now, honey, just hang in there,” Steve soothed, sitting by your feet. He picked your legs up and set them in his lap, gently rubbing them.

 

“Well, how do I convince her to get out now? I've barely slept for three days,” you groaned. 

 

Steve looked pensive as he continued to massage your feet. He watched you turn and shift, trying to get comfortable, constantly groaning and grimacing, and he wished he could make you feel better. 

 

“I guess we could try encouraging your body to start the process,” he suggested. 

 

“I've been trying everything I could think of all day; everything short of eating spicy food, anyway. I want to get this baby out, but not by way of anaphylaxis,” you said, trying to laugh, but it sounded more like a strangled cry.

 

Steve nodded, giving you a sympathetic expression. His hands that were rubbing your feet moved slowly up your legs until he was holding your belly. 

 

“Come on, baby girl, you gotta come out now,” he leaned and spoke, gently rubbing your baby bump. “Your mama's not gonna last much longer.”

 

You smiled as you watched him talk to your belly. 

 

“Maybe she'll take orders from Captain America like the rest of us do,” you mused, stroking his hair. 

 

Steve sighed, leaning into your touch and moving his hands up to wrap around you. He kissed your belly, slowly climbing, until he was hovering over you. He dipped down and gave you a slow kiss.

 

“We could try having sex,” he suggested with a grin, ducking to kiss along your jaw. “I assume that's the other thing you haven't tried yet.”

 

You sighed and your hands instinctively tangled in his hair when his lips moved down to your neck. His left hand left the couch where he was bracing himself above you and gently cupped a breast, thumb stroking over the nipple through your clothing. You arched into his touch and quietly moaned. 

 

“Steve,” you breathed, moaning again as he slotted one of his legs between yours and pressed up against your center. 

 

“What, love, tell me what you need,” he encouraged, slowly and gently rubbing his lower thigh against you. 

 

“Honey, as much as I'd like to, I'm just too tired,” you told him. 

 

Steve pulled back so he could look at you, smiling. “Then just lie back and let me take care of you,” he insisted.

 

He leaned in again, kissing you deeply, his tongue sliding against yours. He pressed his thigh into you again, harder this time, and you whimpered, knowing you were already completely wet, like you always were the moment he touched these days. His hand cupping your breast went to the neck of your shirt and slid underneath the fabric to cup you again. His fingers deftly rolled your nipple as he thigh continued to work at your center and he had you keening and whimpering in minutes. 

 

Steve sat up and leaned back on his heels, dark eyes staring down at you. He reached forward, hooking his fingers into your leggings, and pulling them down along with your panties. His hand crawled up your thigh, making you whine, until he reached the apex. He watched you writhing and moaning under his touch as he circled your clit.

 

“Oh, honey, don't stop,” you begged as you felt that coil tightening further.

 

Steve watched you with a possessive look as he drove you toward your release. He loved that look on your face and he loved getting to be the one you made it for. He didn't think he'd ever felt quite that way about someone before.

 

“God, you're so beautiful,” he whispered as he leaned over to pull you into another hungry kiss.

 

He devoured you with his lips as he fingers continued to push you toward your climax and a moment later you came hard as he swallowed your moans. 

 

His lightly circled your clit as he worked you through your orgasm until finally stilling. He sat back again, replacing your clothing, and smiling as he watched you sigh and sink back into the couch against the pillows. 

 

“Did that help?” He asked, trying to suppress an almost snug grin.

 

“Well, I'm not in labor, but it certainly didn't hurt,” you replied quietly, but your eyes were falling closed and within a minute you were fast asleep. 

 

Steve watched you as you drifted off, taking in how peaceful you looked. For just a minute, he felt overwhelmed with this unexpected life that had fallen into place between you. You and the baby; his own little family. He would never stop being grateful that you had found this together, even after having lost so much. And as much as he missed Bucky and Natasha, he was even grateful for the part they played in getting you both here. He had to be.

 

He carefully got up and wrapped you in a blanket, deciding it was safer to leave you there since you were finally sleeping. He placed a whispered kiss to your forehead before sitting in the chair across from you and picking up a book. It wasn't long before he also nodded off, the book rested against his chest. 

 

***

 

You woke, slow and groggy and stiff, eyes fluttering open to look at your surroundings. You realized you were still on the couch, but a glance at the windows told you it had been at least a couple hours because it was nearly dark outside. You groaned as you sat up, swinging your legs over the couch and pausing.

 

You looked over and saw Steve slumped against the back of the chair across from you, a book on his chest. You smiled. You decided you should wake him because he was far too big to be sleeping in an armchair all night. You scooted forward and pushed yourself off the couch and you onto your feet. 

 

And immediately felt an odd sensation and then your feet were suddenly wet. You froze, looking down at your soaked leggings. 

 

“Steve,” you called, still a little stunned. 

 

He stirred a little, but didn't wake.

 

“Steve,” you said again, more forcefully.

 

“Hmm?” Came his sleepy reply, his eyes still closed. 

 

“Steven!” You shouted, causing him to jolt and jerk up out of the chair.

 

“What- what is it?” He frantically replied as he scrambled toward you, still half asleep.

 

“My water just broke.

Chapter 21: Momentous

Steve grit his teeth as you dug your nails into his upper arm, screaming your way through another contraction. It finally passed and your grip slowly relaxed as you caught your breath. You leaned over, collapsing against his chest as he walked you back over to the bed. 

 

“I'm almost glad Bucky's not here because I think I would just be screaming at him for doing this to me,” you whined as you sat down, holding your back.

 

Steve just gave you a sympathetic smile as he rubbed your shoulders. “I guess that's one reason for me to be grateful I'm not the one who did it, then,” Steve chuckled.

 

“With this much pain, I'm likely to forget and just start cursing you both; fair warning,” you replied, as you squinted, feeling another contraction coming on.

 

You screamed your way through it again, this time cursing Bucky and swearing if he were here, you would kill him yourself, nails biting hard into Steve's forearms and you were pretty sure you drew blood. When it passed and you were catching your breath, a nurse came in to check on you again.

 

“Alright, Agent Barnes, it looks like you're ready to push,” she announced cheerfully. 

 

“Oh, thank God,” you heard Steve blurt out, his face flooded with relief. 

 

You shot him a dirty look.

 

***

 

Everything else was a blur of pain and screaming and movement, until, finally, you heard your daughter cry. You heard someone ask Steve if he wanted to cut the cord and you collapsed against the bed, trying to just keep breathing.

 

Moments later she was being placed on your chest and you were holding this little life that you had been thinking about and talking to and preparing for for months. She was beautiful and you felt a kind of love you'd never experienced before. 

 

Steve was leaning over you both and he reached out to gently rest his hand on her head. You looked up at him and you knew you were crying again. 

 

“Congratulations, mama,” Steve said, kissing your temple. 

 

You smiled wider and bright, squeezing joyful tears from your eyes. “Congratulations to you too, daddy,” you echoed. 

 

You both just stared at her for a moment. Steve put his arm around you both. 

 

“I bet she'll have your beautiful voice,” Steve mused as he caressed her head. 

 

“She's got Bucky's eyes,” you said.

 

“She does,” Steve agreed. 

 

“And she'll have your unbreakable spirit,” you added, looking up at Steve, praying he could see how much you needed him and wanted him here with you both. 

 

“I don't know about that, I think she's better off being like you,” he said.

 

You kissed his cheek. “I love you,” you told him, as more tears spilled.

 

You saw a wave of relief wash over him again and he leaned his forehead on yours as you both looked back at your daughter. 

 

“Not as much as I love both of you,” Steve whispered. 

 

***

 

A few days of resting and being surrounded by nurses and staff and loads of checks and rechecks later, you were finally allowed to leave the medical building and go home.

 

It might have only been a short walk across the compound, but bringing home your newborn daughter felt momentous. It was a moment you had been trying to prepare for and wrap your mind around, and yet it still felt completely overwhelming.

 

Several days went by in a blur as both you and Steve tried to find a routine with this new element. There was lots of laughing and crying and frustration and happiness and everything else that comes with the territory.

 

Steve was a saint, helping in every possible way and staying calm and patient even when you lashed out from sheer exhaustion. Everyday he gave you more reasons to trust that he wouldn't bail and you were so grateful for this life you had.

 

A couple weeks later, you were walking into the kitchen, having finally gotten your daughter to take a nap somewhere other than your arms, and you saw Steve leaning against the counter, opening the mail. He was staring at a paper, transfixed with an expression on his face you couldn't quite place. 

 

“What is it?" You asked as you poured a glass of iced tea.

 

You moved to stand next to him so you could look over his shoulder. You realized he was holding Murdock's birth certificate. It occurred to you the look on his face was something like shock. You watched his eyes as he scanned the paper again. 

 

Murdock Buchanan Barnes Rogers it clearly read across the center. 

 

“You… you gave her my name,” he quietly breathed, almost like he couldn't believe it.

 

You watched as a kind of stunned smile curled one side of his mouth. You smiled back, your chest flooding with warmth at the sincere joy you saw on his face.

 

“I hope that's okay,” you replied, biting your lip just a little nervously.

 

Steve snapped his head up to look at you, surprised again. “Okay? Honey…” he enveloped you in a strong embrace, burying his face in your neck. “It's the best gift I've ever gotten.”

 

Steve stood back a little, keeping his arms wrapped around you. “I hope you know I wasn't expecting that and it wouldn't have made any difference to me, that I would be her dad regardless.”

 

You nodded, giving him a heartfelt smile. “I know, love. I know it wouldn't have made a difference,” you assured him. “But, like I said before, she is going to have a complicated relationship with her parentage and I wanted to give her every reason to feel connected to all of us; you included. Plus, I thought, maybe in the future…” you trailed off, realizing you were letting your thoughts run away, unbridled. 

 

Steve watched you clamp your mouth shut and your eyes darted away from his. He tilted his head and furrowed his brows, running his hands gently over your sides to get your attention. 

 

“In the future, what, love?” He asked, watching you carefully. He watched you swallow and then fix a casual smile to your face, raising your eyes back to his again. 

 

“Nevermind, it's not important,” you assured him. You grabbed your glass and walked to sit on the couch. 

 

Steve watched, puzzled, as you turned on the TV, queueing up a show and then started folding laundry. He was considering letting it go when the pieces clicked into place in his mind, his eyebrows untangled and instead raised up his forehead. He took a deep breath and slowly went after you. He quietly sat next to you on the couch, picking up a shirt and helping you fold. 

 

“YN,” he said, softly. You turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow in question. 

 

“Were you going to say you thought maybe in the future you would have my name too?” Steve asked the question, calm and quiet, watching you closely as he folded some onesies.

 

You momentarily froze as you folded a pair of Steve's jeans. You closed your eyes for a moment, unconsciously chewing at your lip. You set the pants in your lap and opened your eyes to look at Steve. He was watching you, expression soft and inviting. You gave him a shy smile. 

 

“Yes,” you admitted. “But we've never talked about it and I didn't want you to feel like that was something I expected. Because, Steve, I swear I'm happy with what we have. I don't want you to feel like I'm trying to push you into something.”

 

Steve smiled, warm and calm, setting down the clothing he was folding. He slowly reached out and grabbed your face, guiding you forward to kiss him. When he pulled away, still smiling, he chuckled quietly as his thumbs smoothed across your cheeks. 

 

“I'm still old fashioned at heart, love, remember? Of course I've thought about giving you my last name,” Steve assured you softly.

 

You smiled more confidently. “You never brought it up, and neither did I, so I really didn't know.”

 

“I wasn't going to bring it up anytime soon. We've had nothing but major life changes for months now. And, more than anything, I was afraid of pushing you too far too fast,” he glanced down and nervously picked at his hands. “I know life has changed drastically, but really, you and Bucky only got married, what, around a year ago? I thought bringing it up at this point would just be insensitive.”

 

You couldn't help but tilt your head with a grateful smile. This man. He really was the pinnacle of selfless. For a moment all you could think was if he could instill even an ounce of who he was into your daughter, she would be so lucky. You placed a hand on top of his and his gaze returned to you. 

 

“You, Captain Rogers, are far too good for this world,” you told him with a soft chuckle.

 

He looked back at you with a shy smile, glancing down at your hands again. “Like I've said before, I'm glad you have faith in me.”

 

You laughed quietly again and you resumed folding laundry, Steve continuing to assist. You continued in comfortable silence for a few minutes occasionally chuckling at the comedy on the screen in front of you.

 

“... So does that mean you want to take my last name… eventually?” Steve quietly and carefully asked, keeping his eyes on the screen as he moved piles of folded clothes back to the now empty basket. 

 

You gave him a small wry smile as you stood and picked up the basket. You were about to answer him when Friday alerted you that there was noise and movement in the nursery. You sighed and hung your head.

 

“How about we revisit the idea when our daughter is no longer dependent on my body as her food source?” You suggested setting the basket back on the coffee table.

 

Steve stood and took the basket. He gave you a small, apologetic smile. “Of course, love,” he agreed. 

 

You stepped toward him, putting your hand lightly on his chest and getting up on your tip toes to give him a soft kiss. “But, eventually… yes,” you said quietly before heading to feed your crying infant. 

 

***

 

Before you knew it six months had flown by. Life felt surprisingly normal. Steve went to work everyday and came home to you and Murdock. Every day you marveled at how lucky you had gotten when you watched him with her. 

 

True to his word, Steve made sure that Bucky was a constant in your daughter's life. He spent every night reading with her and telling her stories about his childhood with Bucky. Every day you would look at pictures and talk about him. Steve would dance her around the kitchen in his arms while you sang your wedding song. You kept him alive and real to her any way you could. 

 

She was ten months old and just starting to take steps on her own when you went back to work. You cried when you left her at the daycare facility, even though it was only on the other side of the compound. You only made it through half the day before Steve couldn't take seeing the look on your face anymore and went to get her and brought her back to his office. 

 

You tapped lightly on his open office door, not bothering to look up as you walked in. “Steve, I need approvals on these, and Rhodey said he needs you in DC next week,” you began, eyes on the tablet you held.

 

Your eyes snapped up when you heard a familiar babbling. Steve was kneeling on the floor with Murdock sat in front of him, the two of them building with oversized blocks. Murdock looked up at you and squealed, crawling over and using your legs to pull herself up. 

 

“Ma-ma-ma-ma,” she babbled as she bounced while clutching your legs. 

 

You fought tears of joy as you scooped her up into your arms. “Hi, little love,” you greeted her, nuzzling her nose with yours. She giggled.

 

Steve got up and came over to you, loosely placing his hand on your back. “I knew you were having a hard time, so I figured half a day was good enough. Baby steps,” he said, gently kissing your temple. 

 

You tilted your head up to look at him and smiled. “Thank you,” you said, leaning in to give him a small kiss while Murdock played with the buttons on your shirt. As you pulled back, she babbled something and then leaned over, grabbing Steve's face with both her hands. You both laughed. 

 

“Do you want to give Daddy a kiss too?” You asked her, and you laughed again when she leaned forward, mouth agape and left a slobbery wet kiss on Steve's chin. 

 

Steve smiled wide. “Aw, thank you for kisses, baby girl,” Steve cooed as he placed a kiss of his own on her cheek. She squealed with laughter and reached her hands out, practically launching herself into Steve's arms. 

 

“Da-da-da-da,” she babbled as she bounced and smacked his shoulders excitedly. 

 

You watched them, smiling as you often did, but you remembered that you still had things to accomplish. 

 

“Steve, the documents and Rhodey,” you repeated.

 

“Right,” he mumbled. He set Murdock back on the ground in front of her toys again and took the tablet from the desk. He began reading and scrolling, placing signatures at the indicated marks. 

 

“You said he wants me down there next week? For how long?” Steve asked. 

 

“It sounds like maybe three days,” you replied. You sat on the couch behind your daughter and fished a snack out of a nearby drawer, handing it to her. 

 

Steve looked up. “Three days? I don't know,” Steve said, face scowling.

 

You frowned. “Why? Do you have another assignment? I didn't see anything listed.”

 

“No, it's just,” he looked up, setting the tablet on the desk. “I've never left you two that long before,” Steve replied, gesturing to you and your daughter. “I don't think I should go. I can't leave you to take care of Murdock by yourself. She's still only sleeping through part of the night.”

 

You gave him an appreciative smile, getting up and walking over to him again. “Steve,” you sighed, sitting on the desk facing him. He reached up and placed a hand on your thigh, absently stroking his thumb along the hem of your skirt. “We will be fine. This won't be the last time you have to be gone. Eventually, we both will. That's our life. She has to learn that. It's okay.”

 

Steve dropped his head just a little and gave you a knowing smile, looking at you over the top of his eyes. “I know, sweetheart, but maybe I just don't want to leave you.”

 

You laughed, leaning back a little further on the desk, the movement making Steve's fingers skim just under the hem of your skirt. “As much as I like hearing you say that, you gotta do your job, Cap.”

 

Steve moved toward you, smiling and about to reply, but he paused, looking over your shoulder. 

 

“Oh, Murdock, honey, that's not a toy,” he called. He rounded the desk toward her. 

 

You twisted around and saw Murdock had pulled herself up on the coffee table and was reaching for a picture frame sitting in the middle. You walked over toward the couch again as Steve grabbed the frame before she could knock it over. She continued to reach for it in Steve's hand, bouncing. 

 

“Buh, buh,” she repeated as she looked at the frame, an outstretched hand waving at the picture. 

 

Steve picked her up and sat next to you on the couch, setting her on his leg. He held the frame out in front of her. She smacked the glass as she looked at the picture.

 

“Buh, buh, da,” she repeated, tapping away on the picture as you and Steve watched, brows furrowed. 

 

“Is she trying to say Bucky?” You wondered, eyeing Steve. You looked at the frame, which held a picture of Steve and Bucky. 

 

Steve looked back at you, a tiny shrug and a small smile on his lips. You reached out and tapped the glass over Bucky. 

 

“Murdock, who's that?” You asked, finger on Bucky's image. She looked up at you quietly for a moment. “Who's this?” You asked again, tapping your finger to draw her attention. She smiled and repeated her ‘buh, buh’ babbling. You raised an eyebrow, moving your finger to rest on Steve's image. 

 

“Who's that?” You asked, tapping the photo.

 

“Da-da-da,” she quietly repeated.

 

You looked at each other again, smiling wide, before watching her again as she continued to drum on the glass.

 

“I can't believe she's actually recognizing him,” you said quietly. You unexpectedly felt tears forming in your eyes. “I hope that means we're succeeding in making him a part of her life.”

 

Steve laughed quietly. “I think it means she's going to be super smart like you. I can tell you for certain she doesn't get that from Buck.”

 

Murdock grew bored of the photo and climbed off Steve's lap to crawl over to her toys again. You scooted over closer to Steve, leaning into his side as he put his arm around you. 

 

“I'm not super smart,” you countered as you watched her play. “I'm just average, not like Tony or Bruce. They qualify as super smart.”

 

Steve gave you a skeptical look even though you weren't watching him. “You know eight languages and you do complex equations in your head to fire arrows. That's far more than the average smart.”

 

You laughed. “I know nine languages. And I don't do much calculating, at least not anymore. It's more intuition and muscle memory now.”

 

“When did you learn another language? I remember eight from your file.”

 

“I picked up Romanian a few years ago. Bucky used to use it just to get under my skin because he knew I didn't understand it. He and Nat would have conversations just to annoy me, so I learned,” you replied. 

 

Steve quietly laughed. “You learned a language just to irritate your boyfriend; only super smart people can do that.”

 

“He wasn't my boyfriend,” you countered with a chuckle. 

 

“Yeah he was,” Steve disagreed. “You guys had all the markers of a committed relationship. You just weren't sleeping together.”

 

You knew you were blushing just a little, even after all this time. “Alright, fine. You might be right.”

 

Murdock started whining and tossing her toys, face twisting in frustration. 

 

“Okay, time for lunch and then a nap,” you declared as you stood and picked up your daughter. You started for the door with Steve in tow.

 

“When do I have to leave for DC?” Steve asked as you crossed the green. He held the door to the residence building open for you, stepping in behind you. 

 

“Tuesday,” you replied. You entered the kitchen and put Murdock in her highchair while Steve grabbed her lunch from the fridge. He handed you the container and you started feeding her while Steve got out various ingredients to make something for the two of you. 

 

“Maybe you guys should go visit Clint and Laura while I'm away,” Steve suggested as he sliced a tomato. 

 

“I still have a job to do here,” you reminded him. “I've been back a half a day so far. I can't leave again already.”

 

“You can do pretty much everything remotely, except training,” Steve pointed out. “And I'm pretty sure I can talk to your boss and get those reassigned,” he offered with a half smile.

 

“Steve, you can't just do that,” you argued. 

 

He came around to the table and set a sandwich next to you.

 

“The hell I can't,” he replied, kissing your cheek. “I'm the Captain.”

 

Steve handed Murdock some sliced bananas before sitting, allowing you to pause and take a few bites of your sandwich. 

 

“Come on, you can still do everything from your laptop and Murdock can play with the kids for a few days. I'll meet you out there when I get done in DC, how does that sound?” Steve persisted.

 

You huffed. Despite your arguments, that did sound nice. Clint and Laura loved to help with the baby and it meant you got much more sleep. And with Steve gone, that would be hard to accomplish in the first place. You sighed and nodded your head. 

 

Steve grinned. “What do you think, Murdock?” Steve said, turning to wipe some banana off her face. “Do you wanna go see Gamma and Papa?”

 

Murdock's face lit up and she kicked her legs frantically. She tried to move around, searching her surroundings. You scowled at Steve. 

 

“No, they're not here right now, baby,” you told her, giving Steve a chastising look. “Daddy shouldn't have said anything, I'm sorry, little love,” you soothed when she started to get frustrated when she couldn't find her grandparents. 

 

Steve gave you an apologetic look. “I'm sorry, baby girl. I meant later,” he tried to explain. He offered her another bite of peanut butter to go with the banana and that seemed distracting enough.

 

“I'll call Clint after I put her down for a nap and make sure it's okay if we visit,” you said, finishing your lunch. 

 

Steve shrugged. “If you want, but you have your own place there and he has said like a thousand times you can come whenever.”

 

You nodded. “I know, but still.”

 

You grabbed plates and took them to the sink while Steve cleaned up Murdock and got her out of her chair. 

 

“I'll put her down,” Steve offered. “That way you can get back to work. Wouldn't want people thinking you're getting away with things, since you're sleeping with your boss.”

 

Steve gave you a smirk as he lifted your sleepy daughter to rest against his shoulder. You rolled your eyes, but grabbed your laptop and took a seat on the couch. 

 

“If you insist,” you said as you crossed your legs and opened the laptop. “Since you're the boss.”

 

You had about a half hour of quiet to yourself before Steve came back and sat next to you. Before you could ask what was happening, he was closing your laptop and setting it on the coffee table. He grabbed your waist and effortlessly picked you up, setting you down on his lap. You giggled as you set a knee on either side of his thighs and placed your hands on his shoulders. 

 

“I figure we have about another half hour before she wakes up,” he said just above a whisper as his hands traveled down to tightly grip your hips.

 

You grinned as you ran your hands from his shoulders, up his neck. “It's the middle of the day, Captain Rogers. If this isn't the definition of ‘getting away with things because you're sleeping with your boss’, then I don't know what is.”

 

“So, tell me to stop, sweetheart,” he challenged, nudging your chin up with his nose and running it slowly down the column of your throat.

 

Steve's hands slid around from your hips to forcefully grip your ass. He nipped at the spot below your throat before kissing his way back up until finally connecting his lips to yours in a hungry kiss. You couldn't stop the moan that rose in your throat and your hands twined together around the back of his neck.

 

You dropped down to firmly rest against his thighs and ground your hips into his when he swept his tongue through your mouth. You rocked against him, pressing your core against the growing bulge in his pants and he groaned in response as his hands slid back down from your ass to dip under the hem of your skirt. Steve's hands traveled upward, hiking your skirt upwards as they went, until they were squeezing your ass again through the thin lace of your cheeky panties.

 

You gave him a look through hooded eyes, biting your lower lip, as you removed your hands from his neck and brought them to the buttons on the front of your shirt, slowly undoing them to expose more of your cleavage. You watched his eyes darken and his tongue dart out to wet his lips as his gaze followed your hands. You got about halfway through before a quiet growl left his chest and he surged forward, burying his face in your breasts.

 

You gasped as he ran his tongue all over them, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin, pulling whines and moans from you. Your hands tugged and pulled at this hair, eventually traveling down the neck of his shirt, searching for the contact of skin.

 

He pulled his hands from under your skirt and you whined at the loss. Steve gave a dark chuckle, reaching back to grab his shirt collar and yanking it over his head and off. You leaned in immediately, running your fingers and nails across his shoulders and chest while your lips captured his again. Steve's hands slid up your thighs and you moaned into his mouth when you felt him grab your pussy and squeeze. You felt a fresh surge of arousal pooling and you ground down against his palm.

 

You pulled your lips apart as you ran your hands down his chest and abs until you reached his belt and made quick work of undoing it and his pants. You reached into his briefs and pulled out his hard member, stroking in time with his squeezes to your pussy. Both of you were panting and pressing into each other. 

 

You leaned forward to hover over his ear. “Quit playing around and fuck me, Cap,” you demanded in a breathy tone.

 

Steve growled again and his fingers hooked into your panties and yanked them aside while his other hand forcefully pushed your hips back down and impaled you on his cock. You cried out as he filled you, head throwing back. He barely gave you a second to adjust before his other hand grabbed your other hip and he was guiding you to bounce on his cock while he thrusted up into you and you were a string of moans and curses. 

 

“I think you might have forgotten that I give the orders around here,” he said in a deep and husky voice as he continued to spear you over and over.

 

You looked down at him and bit your lip with a smirk, hands gripping hard on his bare shoulders. “If you say so, Cap,” you teased, but your look was quickly replaced with a needy whimper as one of his hands reached up and pinched your clit.

 

“I do say so, baby,” Steve reiterated. “And right now, I say you can't come until I say you can.”

 

He pinched your clit again and you let out a strangled cry, feeling your orgasm right there. You moaned loudly, digging your nails into his back. He could feel you clenching around him hard. 

 

“Oh, baby, I'm-” you bit out, but all at once Steve halted all movement and pulled his fingers away from you. You whined loudly, attempting to grind down on his cock, but he gripped you tight, holding you completely still. 

 

“I said you can't come until I say so,” he repeated. His grip on you tightened as you continued to squirm seeking friction.

 

“Steve…” you begged, breathless and needy and pleading with your eyes. 

 

“Not right now. Right now I'm your Captain,” he said, eyes darkening further. He squeezed your hips hard and slammed you down right against him and you cried out at the way it drove him deeper into your heat. “Can you follow orders, Agent Barnes?”

 

He roughly ran his chin up your neck and across your jaw, his five o'clock shadow scratching at your soft skin. You clutched at his shoulders and keened, moans leaving your lips again when he ran his lips over the skin below your jaw.

 

“I asked you a question, Agent,” Steve whispered harshly against your skin before sinking his teeth into the skin above your right breast. You cried out and grabbed his hair, tugging hard and he moaned. 

 

“Yes, Captain Rogers,” you whined. Steve smiled against your skin, his tongue licking a stripe down your cleavage. You sighed at the contact and continued to scratch his scalp with your nails. 

 

He began to guide your hips again and you couldn't help but cry out because you were already so sensitive. You fought to match his pace and not chase your high, allowing his hands to move you and surrendering to their rhythm. He had you panting and moaning again in no time. 

 

“Please, Captain,” you begged, feeling your release so close you could taste it.

 

“Please, what, Agent?” Steve asked, teasing and slowing his pace just slightly. You whimpered loud and shamelessly, nails biting into his biceps. 

 

“Please let me come,” you pleaded. Steve chuckled, picking up his pace a little and canting your hips just slightly so that every time he drove you down he hit your clit.

 

“Captain Rogers!” You wailed, feeling the strain of holding back your orgasm. 

 

“Come. Now,” Steve commanded.

 

And you did. Like an explosion, your orgasm burst through you, sparks exploding behind your eyelids and you screamed his name. He was right behind you, groaning loudly as your name fell from his lips and he released his seed into you.

 

It took several minutes for you both to come back down, clutching at each other and panting as your highs slowly faded. Steve slowly lifted you off his softening member and you sat back a little, brushing hair from your face and sweat from your forehead.

 

“Are you okay, honey?” Steve asked, reaching out to smooth more flyways out of your face. “That wasn't too rough, was it?”

 

You tilted your head and laughed as you touched a hand to your flushed chest. “Too rough?” You repeated back with a wicked smile. “Steve, if I'd known that side of you existed, I would have pulled it out of you months ago. That was fucking amazing.”

 

Steve laughed, dark and rumbling deep in his chest. “Guess he was right,” he mumbled as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you against him again. He smiled and pulled you into a long slow kiss. 

 

“Who was right?” You asked with a smile when your lips parted. 

 

“Buck,” Steve breathed quietly. “He once told me that you like it a little rough.”

 

Your eyebrows flew upward, mouth falling open. “He told you that?”

 

Steve laughed a little nervously. “Yeah, but he was drunk, so you can't hold it against him.”

 

You just stared at him, mouth hanging, for a moment, before shaking your head. “I guess I can't. Not after that.”

 

Steve smiled and kissed you lovingly again. “We should probably straighten up. Murdock won't be out for much longer.”

 

You grinned at him, but you knew he could feel your legs shaking ever so slightly. “That's gonna have to be on you, I'm afraid, Captain Rogers,” you emphasized his name, wiggling your eyebrows. “Because after what you just did, I'm not sure I can walk.”

 

Steve laughed, strong and bright, as he lifted you and set you gently back on the couch. He fixed his pants and stood, laughing harder when he watched you collapse against the couch, clothing askew, lips swollen and skin still flushed.

 

“I think I should get you some water, love,” Steve said with a wink.

Chapter 22: Kiss Me, Cap

You leaned back in the porch swing, swaying gently, as you brushed colors over the paper of the sketchbook in your lap. You heard a loud laugh and looked up, watching with a warm smile as your daughter chased the Maximoff twins through the front yard. She giggled loudly when she would almost catch Tommy and then he would dart to the otherside of the yard in a flash.

 

You couldn't believe Murdock was a year and a half old now. She had Bucky's piercing blue eyes and thick, dark hair, and most notably, his show-stopping smile. Everyday you saw more of him in her, like the way she could sweet talk her way into (or out of) just about anything, especially with Steve. The more she grew into her personality, the more thankful you became that her dad was Captain America, because, damn, if she wasn't going to be a handful.

 

But she also had your linguistic capabilities. She knew as much ASL as she did English and you gave her every opportunity to learn more. You were currently working on Spanish.

 

You were glad to see that she had learned traits from Steve as well, like her determination. She constantly tried to keep up with the older kids and she insisted on running with Steve every morning, even though she only made it a few minutes before he had to carry her.

 

Life had continued to settle into some kind of normal, at least for Avengers. Things in this world went on, no matter what happened.

 

Steve was currently on a mission to disband a HYDRA cell that had popped back up post-Snap. You had agreed you wouldn't take field ops again until Murdock was at least two, so he dropped you at the Barton commune, as you affectionately called it, before leaving, radio silence being a part of the op. He was supposed to be gone for 4 days. So far, he had been gone 9.

 

You were trying not to be anxious.

 

You turned your attention back to the painting you were working on, chewing your cheek and trying to will yourself not to dwell on it. Things didn't always go as planned. In fact, they often didn't. You told yourself it was unlikely there was cause for alarm. 

 

You were mixing another color on your palette when you heard your daughter squeal.

 

“Daddy!” Murdock shrieked. 

 

You snapped your head up and watched her sprint across the open field at the weary figure walking toward the house. She practically launched herself into Steve's arms and you could hear his deep, genuine laugh from the porch. He hugged her tight, settling her against his hip, as he continued to walk toward the house.

 

You felt an invisible weight lifting off your chest and you could feel tears of relief springing to your eyes. You set the painting aside and rose, quickly coming down the steps and walking out to meet him in long measured steps, trying not to let your anxiety fuel your movements. 

 

But when you finally reached him, throwing your arms around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder, you couldn't stop the deep sigh of relief and a few tears that spilled out. Steve gripped you back just as tight. You heard what you thought might be a stifled sob in his chest and you picked your head up to look at him, eyes full of concern. 

 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he breathed quietly. But before you could reply he crashed his lips into yours in a brief but strong kiss.

 

“Hello to you too, Cap,” you said with a breathless chuckle. 

 

“Daddy cry?” Murdock asked, brows furrowed in confusion. She reached out and touched Steve's face where there was a single tear causing a streak in the dirt caked over his skin. 

 

Steve smiled and turned to kiss her tiny palm. “It's okay, baby girl. Daddy's just happy to see you and Mommy. I missed you both so much.”

 

Murdock seemed to accept that answer, smiling. She frowned again, lightly rubbing at Steve's cheek.

 

“Daddy yucky,” she said, scrunching her nose as she wiped away some dirt from Steve's face.

 

Steve laughed quietly. “Yeah, you're right, honey, I'm definitely yucky.” 

 

Steve knelt down and set Murdock back on her feet. “Why don't you go tell Papa I'm home while I take a shower, okay?”

 

Murdock nodded. “Okay!” And then she was running back toward the farmhouse.

 

As soon as she was out of earshot, you felt Steve falter on his feet and you threw your arm around his waist to help steady him.

 

“Woah, hey, what happened?” You asked as you helped guide him toward the barn and your little apartment.

 

“Just took a bad hit. I'll be fine,” Steve said through gritted teeth. 

 

You guided him down into a kitchen chair and stepped to the freezer for ice packs. He was stripping out of his gear and when you turned back around, he was bare chested, an enormous purple and yellow bruise covering his left side and half his rib cage. You yelped and kneeled next to him, immediately trying to assess the damage. 

 

“Jesus, Steven,” you chastised.

 

You heard him chuckle sharply and immediately grimace at the pain. He instinctively clutched at his side but you gently pushed his hand away. 

 

“You have at least two broken ribs. Lucky you didn't puncture a lung,” you said as you gingerly prodded at his side.

 

“It'll be healed by morning,” Steve breathed out. “I just need to clean up and rest, but I didn't want Murdock to see.”

 

You nodded. “I know you want to shield her from this kind of thing, but sooner or later she has to see the realities of our life, Steve. We tell her about Bucky and Nat and everyone we lost. We can't shelter her from something simple like cracked ribs.”

 

You placed the ice pack against his side and he hissed, squeezing his eyes shut. He slowly relaxed his expression and nodded at you. “Yeah, I know. It's just instinct to protect her. It's hard to fight.”

 

You laughed as you stood up. “It's instinct for you to protect everyone, Steven Grant Rogers. That's what she'll learn, even through something like an injury.”

 

You helped Steve get showered and dressed and wrapped his chest. By the time you were headed back to the main house, he was already moving easier.

 

As soon as you got through the door, Murdock was running toward Steve again. You bent down and caught her before she could crash into him like she usually did 

 

“Hang on, baby girl,” you cautioned as you scooped her up. You held her against you and brought her over to Steve. “Daddy has an owwy, so we have to be gentle, okay?”

 

She scrunched her eyebrows together. You watched her looking over Steve, trying to decide what was hurt. Steve gave her a soft smile and lifted the left side of shirt up so she could see the bandage. She reached out and you moved closer so she could put her fingers on the material.

 

She looked up at Steve with big sad eyes. “Owwy?”

 

You watched Steve's face and the way he set his jaw and you knew he was fighting the urge to tell her that he was fine and she didn't need to worry. But he held his ground. “Yeah, honey. I got hurt at work. It happens sometimes. But I'll be okay,” he assured her with a smile. 

 

Murdock watched him carefully while he explained. When he smiled at her, she smiled back. 

 

“Kiss owwy, Daddy better,” she said, leaning forward to pucker her tiny lips against the bandage at Steve's side. 

 

You and Steve both chuckled quietly. Steve took her from you, setting her on his right hip. 

 

“Thank you for kisses, baby girl,” he said as he kissed her cheek and she grinned. There was suddenly a look of realization on her face and she pointed toward the kitchen. “Papa owwy too.”

 

She squirmed and Steve set her down, she grabbed his hand and pulled him into the kitchen, where, sure enough, Clint sat on a chair as Laura was bandaging his upper arm. Murdock ran to him and pointed at his arm. 

 

“Papa owwy,” she said again. She reached up and tugged on Clint's shirt and then pointed at Steve. “Daddy owwy.”

 

Clint looked back at Steve, raising an eyebrow. “Does she think you injured me?” He said through a light chuckle.

 

Steve laughed quietly. “No, she's just saying we're both injured.” He lifted the edge of his shirt again so Clint could see the bandage.

 

“Jeez, Cap, how did someone manage to crack your ribs?” Clint asked, shaking his head.

 

“Not someone, something,” Steve replied, moving to sit at the table. “Had to duck out a window and came straight down on some rebar, couldn't grab my shield fast enough.”

 

Clint winced as Laura finished dressing his wound. “Well, that's a hell of a better excuse than me.” He stretched his arm and flexed his shoulder with another wince. 

 

You laughed and sat down next to Steve, watching Murdock run off, you assumed to find the kids to play.

 

“We're not as young as we used to be, Barton,” Steve commented as Laura handed him a beer. He nodded at her in thanks as he set it to his lips and took a long pull. 

 

“Speak for yourself, Cap. I'm as spry as ever,” Clint countered with a laugh, but grimaced when he moved his arm wrong.

 

It was Laura’s turn to laugh. “Okay, Hawkeye, but maybe next time you're teaching the kids to shoot, be better about staying out of the way.”

 

You all chuckled and chatted for a while. Steve said the mission was mostly successful, just some loose ends to tie up. At some point you and Laura started making dinner. Steve and Clint both jumped up to help and you both pushed them back into their respective chairs, reminding them they were injured.

 

Murdock ran in through the doorway again, clutching a large stack of what looked like books and papers, followed closely by Kate, who was picking up papers as they fell from Murdock's hands. Murdock rounded the table and handed her objects to Steve, which he took and set on the table, before climbing up into the chair next to him. 

 

“What are these?” Steve asked her as he started separating the papers and books. “Oooh, looks like you got into my sketches… and Mommy's paintings,” Steve smiled as he separated out the papers.

 

Kate came over to you at the counter, assessing what she could do to help. She reached behind and set the remaining sketches and paintings in her hands on the table and Steve grabbed them. Murdock was happily combing through and pointing out various things she recognized. 

 

“Kayyy,” she said, reaching back to tug at Kate and get her attention.

 

Kate turned around and leaned over Murdock's chair. “What's that?” Kate asked, pointing at the painting on the table.

 

“Florrr,” Murdock struggled.

 

“That's right, it's a flower,” Kate encouraged. She reached out and shuffled the papers, pointing at a sketch. “Who's that?”

 

Murdock looked down at the drawing and pointed at the face of the person it depicted. “Mommy,” she said with a bright giggle, looking back to Kate with a wide smile. 

 

Steve was perusing the papers as Murdock and Kate shuffled them around and talked about them. The corner of something caught his eye and he reached for it, pulling it from under others. He pulled it to his face, examining it carefully. It was one of his sketches, you and Bucky and him and Natasha at your wedding, actually. Only, it had color now. He traced the figures with his eyes, taking in how the color brought it to life. 

 

You glanced over your shoulder and saw what Steve was looking at. You swallowed and wiped your hands on a towel before coming up behind him and setting a hand tentatively on his shoulder.

 

“I started painting some of your old sketches,” you explained. “I hope you don't mind. I suck at people and you suck at painting, so I thought it would be nice to combine our strengths. I was going to put them up in Murdock's room.”

 

Steve looked over his shoulder at you. You were nervously chewing at your lip. He smiled and put his hand over yours where it rested on his shoulder. 

 

“I love it, babe. It's a great idea,” he assured you. You smiled with relief.

 

Then Murdock was poking at the picture, excited. “Bucky!” She said, loud and clear as a bell.

 

Both you and Steve stared at her, mouths falling open just slightly. 

 

“That's right, honey, that's your daddy, Bucky,” Steve said assuredly.

 

Murdock giggled and bounced a little in her seat. “Bucky,” she said again with a smile. “Daddy Bucky.”

 

She started shuffling through the sketches and stopping to point out Bucky each time she found him. You watched her smiling and fighting tears. You were so glad that she recognized him and that all the effort you and Steve both made to ensure she knew her father was paying off.

 

Steve squeezed your hand and you looked at each other, sharing a heartfelt look. You leaned down and kissed him gently, giving his hand one more squeeze before returning to the counter to finish dinner. 

 

Steve quietly watched Murdock as she continued to look through the sketches and paintings. She was holding a sketchbook, thumbing through the pages and pointing out various objects to Kate. He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to look at Clint. Clint's eyes darted up to you momentarily and he quickly slid a sheet of paper over to Steve.

 

“I thought you might want to put that away while she's not looking,” Clint suggested, just above a whisper. 

 

Steve's eyebrows furrowed with confusion as he took the sketch paper, turning it over to look at the image. His eyes widened and he quickly set it down. He looked at Clint with silent thanks and Clint motioned at him with his beer. 

 

Steve cleared his throat and stood, gathering up all the loose papers into a stack, including the one he was trying to hide. “I'm gonna put these away now, Murdock, it's time for dinner,” he explained. He took his neatly compiled stack and headed to the door, pausing on the porch to gather your paints that still say by the swing.

 

He headed back to the barn and put everything away, pausing as he did so to look at the particular sketch Clint had handed him; the sketch of the engagement ring he had designed for you. 

 

The engagement ring he currently had in the drawer of his nightstand. He had planned to come back from this mission, leave Murdock with the Bartons for a couple days, and take you away somewhere romantic to ask you.

 

But the mission hadn't quite gone to plan and when he found himself leaping out of the 8th story of a concrete building, all he could think about was how much he didn't want to leave you and Murdock. 

Suddenly his only goal was getting home to you in one piece and asking you to marry him.

 

He didn't want to waste another moment.

 

He went to the drawer and retrieved the ring, heading back to the house with determined steps.

 

He walked back through the doorway into the kitchen and saw the typical chaos as all the kids and young adults filled their plates and sat at the table to eat. The three youngest boys were caught up in a lively discussion as they slowly ate, Laura reminding them every few minutes to pay attention and eat their dinner. Kate, Lila, and Cooper were closest to Clint and Steve heard Kate tell him that she was going to visit Yelena next week. Clint was nodding as he cut up food in front of Murdock and monitored her as she ate. 

 

Steve smiled at the scene in front of him before crossing to stand behind you at the sink. You were finishing up with dishes. He gently set his hands on your waist, dipping his head down so his lips were at your ear. “Take a walk with me, sweetheart,” he whispered. 

 

You smiled, giggling quietly as his breath tickled your ear. You were drying the pan in your hand and setting it on the counter. “Now? Murdock needs a bath and it's getting close to bedtime. Maybe we can go after she's down?”

 

You turned around so you were facing Steve and he looked decidedly disappointed. You frowned just slightly, unsure why waiting an hour made such a difference. Before you could say anything else, Clint interrupted. 

 

“Go ahead, Kes, I've got her. In fact, she can stay with us tonight, right Laur?” Clint offered, peeking over the heads of everyone at the table until he found his wife.

 

Laura watched his face for a moment, her eyes seemed to reflect understanding and she nodded enthusiastically. “Of course! We can keep her. You guys need a break, I'm sure.”

 

“Really? You sure you don't mind?” You asked, but Clint could see the hope in your eyes. Steve being gone much longer than expected and then coming home injured had worried you more than you liked to admit. 

 

“It's no problem,” Clint assured you. “How bout it, Murdock, you wanna have a sleepover with Gamma and Papa?”

 

Murdock squealed and clapped, getting spaghetti further across her face. “Gamma and Papa watch movie?” She asked, turning to Clint. 

 

“Sure, squirt, we can watch a movie. Whaddya wanna watch?” Clint replied as he wiped spaghetti sauce from her face. 

 

“Dinosaurs,” she said with a giggle.

 

You snapped your head to Clint. “She better mean the cartoon variety, Hawk,” you said with a mild glare.

 

He gave you a sheepish grin, but before he could respond, you put your hand up. “You know what, don't answer that,” you said, defeated. “Just don't keep her up all night or I will make sure it's your problem.”

 

“Understood, Kes,” Clint said with a grin. 

 

You and Steve kissed your daughter goodnight and he waited for you on the porch swing while you gathered a bag of clothes for her and grabbed your sweater. You left the bag inside the door of the house then Steve was grabbing your hand and leading you out toward the fence line.

 

It was late spring and the air was cool but comfortable. The Midwestern humidity clung to every surface and you could hear a chorus of frogs and bugs surrounding you as you walked through the tall grass.

 

You let go of Steve's hand, opting to hook your arm around his instead as you walked in silence. You glanced up at his face and could clearly see anxiety in the way he strained to hold his expression calmly. You ran your hand up and down his bicep soothingly. 

 

“What's on your mind, Cap?” You asked, watching him closely. 

 

Steve swallowed and stopped, turning to face you. You looked at him puzzled and cautious, still making soothing circles on his arm with your thumb. He raised his eyes to look at you and the nervousness you saw there was unlike him. It almost alarmed you. 

 

“Steve, what's wrong?” You asked softly. “Baby, tell me what's going on.”

 

Steve gave you a weak smile. “Nothing's wrong, honey. Don't worry. It's just…” he paused for a second, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “... It's just, when I had to jump out that window, nothing between me and the pavement, all I could think about was you and Murdock and how much I didn't want to leave you, how much I love this life we have- how much I love you.”

 

You smiled, soft and caring, and let go of his arm to caress his cheek. “I know you do, Steve. It's alright. You're here and you're safe.” You brought your other hand up to cup his face in your hands. “I love you, Steve Rogers.”

 

Steve's eyes lit up like he was hearing it for the first time, like you hadn't told him everyday for the past year and half, like he thought his heart might stop.

 

You kept your eyes on him, watching as he slowly sunk to the ground, landing on one knee. Your hands fell away from his face as he moved. You stared at him, raising an eyebrow, unsure what he was planning.

 

“Steve…,” you began to question, but you stopped when you saw him reach into his pocket and pull out a small box. 

 

Steve watched your face closely as your eyes widened and your jaw slacked just a little. He couldn't help but give a small half grin. 

 

“YN…” he began slowly, opening the box to reveal a ring. “If the last couple years have shown us anything, it's that we never know when life will suddenly change. I don't want to regret anything. Honey, let's spend our lives together, whatever that looks like. Will you marry me?”

 

You just stared at Steve in stunned silence. The last time you talked about this was over a year ago and life had been so busy, you basically forgot. It took a second for his question to really sink in, and then you were grinning. You watched him mirror your expression, some of the nervousness in his eyes lifting. Several seconds of silence ticked by and Steve was starting to feel his pulse quicken again. 

 

“Sweetheart? Are you gonna answer me?” He gently nudged.

That seemed to break your trance. *Oh, jeez- Yes!” You exclaimed.

 

Steve's smile brightened. “Really? You're sure?”

 

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Steven, put the damn ring on my finger.”

 

Steve laughed, loud and bright as he did as you told him. You barely had a second to admire the ring before he was standing and lifting you up into his embrace, spinning you around. You threw your arms around his neck and you both laughed. Steve leaned back just a little as he held you tight against his chest, arms hooked around your thighs. You watched each other for a moment. 

 

“Kiss me, Cap,” you whispered and he was only too happy to comply, searing his lips to yours in a passionate kiss.

 

When you finally separated your lips, leaning against each other's foreheads you chuckled. “You better put me down, Captain Rogers, you're injured, remember?”

 

“I don't give a fuck,” Steve breathed, nuzzling his nose against your throat. “I'm not putting you down until I damn well please.”

 

Steve's lips ghosted across the skin exposed at your neckline. He followed the fabric down as low as it went and placed a hot kiss to your skin, making you whimper. He smiled and you could feel his lips curl. 

 

“How about we head back to our place?” You suggested, breath catching when his lips moved to kiss and suck at your throat. You wound your fingers through the hair at the back of his neck and you felt him sigh against your skin. He shifted and you moved your legs to wrap around him.

 

“Are you afraid if I keep touching you out here, you won't be able to keep your mouth shut?” He teased, lightly squeezing your ass. 

 

You groaned quietly. “No, Steve, I'm afraid you won't be able to keep your mouth shut,” you shot back, reaching down the back of his shirt and raking your nails hard across his shoulders. 

 

Steve shuddered and tried to stifle a loud groan as it rose in his chest. You smirked and bit your lip when he looked you in the eye with annoyance. 

 

“Case and point,” you said with a soft, breathy laugh.

Chapter 23: What If You Are?

…2 years later…

 

You woke up slowly to soft puffs of breath moving against your neck. The pale light of dawn was just barely peeking through the window, casting a cool, ethereal glow over the room. You felt lips moving gently across your neck until they reached your ear. 

 

“Good morning, Mrs Rogers,” Steve's gravelly voice said, thick with sleep.

 

You grinned and reached back to stroke your fingers along his jaw. “That's Agent Rogers to you, Captain,” you teased.

 

“Oh, I see,” Steve replied, his hand traveling up your body to splay between your breasts. “That's how it's gonna be this morning.”

 

You giggled quietly. “Oh, don't pretend you don't like it,” you countered, sliding your hand back until it tangled in his hair, tugging lightly. 

 

Steve hummed in your ear before moving to attach his lips to the spot just below the corner of your jaw. He sucked on the skin and you whined, arching back against him. You ground your ass against his erection and he groaned against your neck, his hand between your breasts sliding up further to lightly grip your throat. 

 

“You didn't get enough of this last night?” He asked in a deep, husky voice as he pressed his cock hard against your ass and moved his lips further down your neck leaving a trail of wet kisses.

 

You moaned at the feel of his pulsing member pressed into the curve of your ass and pulled at his hair, eliciting a hiss from him.

 

“I never get enough of you, baby,” you replied, gasping as his hand on your throat gently squeezed and he bit into your shoulder, soothing the mark with his tongue.

 

Steve gave a dark chuckle. “That's Captain Rogers to you, Agent,” Steve corrected, placing another bite to your neck, making you squeak. 

 

Steve rolled back a little, pulling you with him, giving him the leverage he needed to switch his arms, snaking the left one around you to replace the hand on your throat, and slowly dragging his right hand down to slip between your legs. He paused for just a moment to pinch your clit, before slamming two fingers inside you with no warning. You cried out, hand grabbing at his wrist as you squirmed against the unexpected intrusion. 

 

Steve's fingers were pumping in and out of you quickly and he shook his arm a little to rid it of your grip. “You know the rules, Agent. I give the orders,” Steve bit out as he continued to fuck you with his hand. “Now; don't you dare come until I say so.”

 

“Y-yes, Captain,” you managed to stammer, his fingers pushing you quickly toward release.

 

You fought the urge to grab his arm again, instead reaching your hand back to grab his hair. You were panting now, moaning his name and you pulled hard at his hair when he curled his fingers inside you. Steve let out a loud moan of his own and his hand on your throat tightened just a little. 

 

You gave a strangled cry, fighting to keep yourself from coming as he relentlessly fingered you. 

 

“You're right there, I can feel it,” he hoarsely whispered in your ear. 

 

All you could do was give a needy whine, grinding against his hand.

 

Steve chuckled darkly again. “Alright, Agent Rogers; come.”

 

You came apart, screaming his name, as he continued to pump his fingers and watch you intently. Steve groaned as he felt you squeezing his fingers and he attached his mouth to your shoulder, sucking and biting and licking every inch he could reach. He worked you through the orgasm before finally stilling his hand, though he didn't remove his fingers. There were a few moments of silence as you gulped down air.

 

“Orders, Captain Rogers,” you asked in a low breathy tone, reaching down to ghost your fingers up and down his arm.

 

Steve growled. “Up on your knees, Agent,” he instructed, removing his hands from your body to give you space to comply. 

 

And you did so immediately, sitting up and kneeling in one swift motion. You looked back over your shoulder at him, biting your lip. 

 

Steve took a second to admire the view; your morning hair, the way you bit into your bottom lip with hooded eyes, your round perfect ass and the slope of your back. He couldn't help but grin at you. 

 

Then he was rising to kneel right behind you. You watched his cock bounce with the movement and bit harder at your lip, groaning at the sight. 

 

Steve gave you a wicked grin as he forcefully grabbed your left hip and then placed his right hand between your shoulder blades, pressing you firmly down against the mattress. Your ass was in the air now and he yanked you back against his hips with another growl.

 

“Hands behind your back, Agent. Keep still,” he ordered. He watched you bring your arms up and cross them behind your back obediently. 

 

He grabbed your ass cheeks, making you widen your legs a little, and he thrust forward, burying his cock inside you. You moaned and he could feel you straining to do as you were told and stay still. 

 

Steve leaned over you, his lips near your ear again. “Good job, Agent,” he praised, the tip of his tongue tracing the shell of your ear. You let out a needy whimper and he chuckled quietly again. “Now, if you can keep following orders, I might let you come again,” he teased.

 

You tried to reply but your words were caught in your throat when he began thrusting into you at a punishing pace without build up or warning. You were fighting to stay still as his strong hips slammed against your ass and threatened to drive you right off the mattress. Steve's bruising grip on your hips was the only thing keeping you in place. The sounds of slapping skin and shallow breathing mixed with moans and cries of each other's names were echoing off the walls. 

 

You felt your climax building, almost on edge and you cried out again. “St- Captain Rogers,” you whined, breathless and shaking from the strain of staying still and staving off your release. 

 

“I didn't give the order yet, Agent Rogers,” he reminded you, slowing down his pace.

 

You whined again, louder, as you felt that tight coil slipping a bit. You instinctively rocked your hips back, seeking friction and Steve halted altogether, his vice grip on your hips holding you in place. You hissed, knowing there would be bruises there later 

 

“That's insubordination, Agent,” Steve growled, refusing to move. 

 

You all but cried, feeling so wound up, as your orgasm quickly faded from view. “I'll follow orders,” you promised, gripping your hands together behind your back more tightly. “Please, Captain Rogers,” you shamelessly begged, not caring at the moment how pathetic you sounded. You'd do anything to just make him move again. 

 

Steve chuckled and smacked your ass, making you cry out. The yelp that rose in your throat was cut off when he started pounding you again, harder than before and you were seeing stars in seconds. Steve groaned loudly as he felt your walls fluttering and spasming around his cock. His hips stuttered and you realized, with relief, that he was also right on the edge.

 

“Come, Agent Rogers,” he commanded, crying out as he felt you comply. 

 

You screamed his name as your orgasm ripped through your body violently. You felt him coming right alongside you, his hot seed, painting your insides and he collapsed over your body, chest heaving. You stayed pinned beneath him, both of you trying to steady your breathing, his cock still buried in you, for several minutes. Finally, he pulled out and laid back against his pillow and you collapsed on your side. 

 

“It's a good thing the mission’s over, Steve, because I'm gonna feel that for three days,” you said through ragged breaths.

 

Steve laughed, breathy and ragged as well. “Is that a complaint?”

 

“What do you think, Captain Rogers?” you replied, giving him a devilish grin.

 

Steve mirrored your expression as he crawled over to lay beside you. “I sure as hell hope not, baby.”

 

Steve smiled as he watched you lay naked in the growing morning sun. He watched the light dance over your skin, dappled over your chest, glinting off the ring that would forever hang from your neck. He furrowed his brow. Rings, he realized. He reached out and grabbed your right hand, turning it over to confirm. 

 

“You took it off,” he said, running his thumb over the backs of your fingers for emphasis.

 

You nodded, reaching up with your other hand to clasp the rings that hung from the chain around your neck. You had taken to wearing your ring from Bucky on your right hand when you and Steve got engaged. But recently, you took it off altogether, adding it to the chain where Bucky's ring already hung. 

 

“It's been over four years now,” you said, tone laced with a nostalgic sadness as you continued to run your fingers over the rings on your chain. “I figured it was time.”

 

You reached out and placed your hand on his chest. He smiled at you. “I kind of feel bad that we lied to Tony and Pepper.”

 

Steve watched you for a second, his grin getting wider. “No you don't,” he challenged. 

 

You bit your lip as you smiled. “No, I don't,” you relented.

 

“Besides,” Steve said as he wrapped his hand over your waist and pulled you to him. “It wasn't a lie. We told them the op was six days… we just also didn't come home when it finished after four.”

 

You both chuckled quietly. “Alright, fair enough,” you conceded.

 

“But, either way,” you sat up and stretched, wincing slightly when you squeezed your thighs together. You saw Steve out of the corner of your eye, smirking. “We should get going. It's a long flight back and I told Tony we would stop and get Murdock on our way home.”

 

Steve climbed off the bed and pulled you with him.

 

“Alright. But first we need a shower,” Steve insisted and you laughed as he dragged you towards the bathroom. 

 

***

 

Steve was piloting the quinjet as you sat next to him working on your laptop. Every few minutes he would look over at you with a small grin, or reach his hand out to trace patterns on your knee. It made you smile and your heart would flutter just a little. It didn't escape you how special it was, even though you'd been together for years now, that you still looked at each other that way. You knew you should count yourself lucky.

 

Your laptop beeped and an alert popped up on your screen.

 

“Fuck!” You all but shouted, causing even Captain America to jump just slightly. 

 

“What is it?” Steve asked, his face reflecting genuine alarm, especially when he looked at your panicked face as you put your hand over your mouth.

 

“I'm late for my birth control shot, again,” you cried, slamming the laptop closed and burying your face in your hands. “Ugh, how can this keep happening?” You groaned as you slumped back in your chair. 

 

“Okay, well let's not panic,” Steve tried to calm you down. “It can't be that late. The alert is on my calendar too and I don't remember seeing it lately.”

 

“Six days,” you said. “I was due almost a week ago.*

 

“Shit,” Steve muttered, running a hand down his face. “How did we both miss that?”

 

“We've been gone nearly a week,” you reminded him. “And you left your phone on the kitchen table, remember?”

 

Steve nodded. “Yeah, I didn't want to go back for it because not having a phone is one of my favorite things,” he tried to lighten the mood with humor. “But why didn't Friday-”

 

“Because you told Friday to only alert us in the event of an emergency,” you again reminded him. “And calendar reminders don't fall under that umbrella.”

 

You were both silent as you individually tried to work the problem. You set the laptop down and got out of your chair, starting to pace. Steve sighed and engaged the autopilot. He grabbed your shoulders as you paced passed him and made you stop. 

 

“First thing we'll do when we land is go get you an emergency pill, alright?” Steve suggested as his thumbs drew soothing circles over your shoulders. 

 

You chewed at your lip, giving him an anxious stare. “We've literally been locked in a hotel room for the last two days doing virtually nothing but each other. You've got me walking with a limp, Steve, I don't know if that's going to cut it.”

 

Steve couldn't help but laugh. “If it doesn't, then we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. But for now, being anxious isn't going to change anything. We'll get you the pill, and we'll get your shot as soon as we're back at the compound. Then we'll just have to wait and see.”

 

You slowly nodded, your rational mind knowing he was right and there was literally nothing else you could do. But your irrational mind was still spinning, even as he guided you back to both take your seats, reminding you that you only had about twenty minutes until you landed at the Starks.

 

A few minutes of silence ticked by as you continued to chew your lip and your head continued to swim with possibilities. 

 

“Steve?” You quietly asked. 

 

“Yeah, babe,” he replied, watching the clouds in front of you. 

 

“What if it's too late and I'm pregnant?” You voiced the fear gnawing at your gut. 

 

“I'm sure you're not,” he tried to reassure you. 

 

“Yeah…” you tried to stop thinking about it, but no luck. “... But what if I am?”

 

Steve stifled a sigh. “Alright,” he relented. “What if you are?”

 

“If I am… what do we do?” You asked, giving him an uncertain look. “I guess, I mean, what would you want to do?”

 

Steve turned to look at you, trying to gauge what you expected and what you actually wanted. He took a slow breath, wanting to make sure he maintained his calm and didn't make you feel pressured. 

 

“I think it's more important to know what you would want to do. You told me that you didn't plan on having kids. I know we have Murdock, but, honey, I'm not naive and I know if Bucky had survived, that might not be the case,” he paused and took your hand, leveling you with a serious look. “Do you want to have another baby?”

 

You glanced nervously around the space, unsure how to respond, simply because you were unsure how you felt. You hadn't given much thought to the idea of having another kid. You loved your daughter and didn't regret your decision to have her, but Steve was right; if Bucky hadn't died, it's likely you would have made a different decision.

 

“I don't know,” you admitted. “I haven't stopped to think about it since Murdock was born. I guess I assumed we would be done after her, but… I don't know, Steve. I had siblings and we were close, but I've seen that often not be the case. You were an only child; did you wish you had siblings?”

 

Steve looked pensive for a minute. “Sometimes I did, but I had Bucky and he was as close as a sibling,” Steve tilted his head thoughtfully. “I think it's safe to say my life would have been very different without him. I have to believe it certainly wouldn't have been better, regardless of everything I've been through.”

 

“So… does that mean you think Murdock should have siblings?” You asked cautiously.

 

You watched Steve closely. You knew him well enough to know he was being withholding. You watched the muscle in his jaw twitch slightly and he was straining to relax his posture. You sighed, wishing just a little that he wouldn't be so stoically selfless because, sometimes, it was impossibly difficult to discern what he really wanted.

 

You sighed heavily, taking your hand out from under his and crossing your arms. “Out with it, Steven,” you demanded. “Nevermind what you think I want or how I might feel. I asked what you wanted. So tell me.”

 

Steve swallowed nervously and sat back. He closed his eyes for a moment and then seemed to decide to do as you asked. “Alright, fine, if I'm being honest; I'd love for us to have another baby. I think it would be good for Murdock to have a sibling,” he paused to swallow again and looked at you. “And I would be lying if I said I didn't think about what it would be like for us to have one that's ours.”

 

You didn't say anything for a minute, just processing his answer. You uncrossed your arms and leaned toward him again. 

 

“Why have you never brought this up before?” You gently questioned. 

 

Steve gave a small shrug. “Because I knew it wasn't what you wanted. Just because I think about it doesn't mean I'm pining for it. I'm happy with what we have.” He reached out and took both your hands, as if he needed to emphasize his point. “I love you and I love our daughter. If that's where you want our family to end, then that's fine with me.”

 

“We're supposed to be partners,” you said, trying to keep your tone even and calm. “You get to have a say in what our life looks like,” you pinched the bridge of your nose, trying not to let your frustration out. “I appreciate how you always put my needs and wants first, I really do, Steve. But it's hard for me to do the same when you have such a hard time sharing what that looks like for you.”

 

Steve nodded slowly. He was aware of his tendency to stop asking himself what he wanted and just defer to you, wanting to make you happy. And it did make him happy to give you what you wanted. But he understood your frustration. 

 

“I want to have another baby,” Steve stated definitively.

 

You swallowed, trying to give him a small smile even though you felt your pulse climbing. “Alright,” you replied, squeezing his hands. “I'm glad you told me. I need time to think about things. Can you give me that?”

 

“Of course, love,” Steve replied with a relieved smile. “Take all the time you want. There's no rush.”

 

You rolled your eyes with an absent chuckle. “That's not entirely true. I'm not getting any younger. If we're going to do this- assuming I'm not already pregnant- if we decide to do it, the clock is ticking, so to speak.”

 

“How about this; first we'll get past the current potential pregnancy scare and once that matter is settled, we can revisit the idea?” Steve suggested. 

 

You shook your head. “No, honey, that's the whole point; if we do decide that we want another baby and if I end being pregnant, this might be the only shot. I'm going to have to decide soon.”

 

Steve sighed again, leaning forward to put a hand on your face. He gently stroked your cheek and smiled. “Then you decide, but you do it for you. Do not let what I want guilt you into a decision you didn't want to make. That will only lead to resentment. I'm happy with the three of us and that won't change.”

 

You smiled. “Thank you, love.”

 

***

 

Steve landed the quinjet not far from the Stark home and once the ramp was lowered you could hear the distinct sound of little girls giggling and shouting. You and Steve stepped up onto the big wrap around porch where Pepper was sitting in a chair, reading a book.

 

She looked up at you and Steve, offering a raised eyebrow and a smirk. “Nice of you to decide to come back. I hope you enjoyed your alone time.”

 

You and Steve looked at each other puzzled. “Uh, sure, I guess. As much as anyone enjoys desolate landscapes and the threat of gunfire, I suppose,” you cautiously responded. 

 

“You forget who designed Friday,” Tony said from behind you as he walked over towards Pepper. “She always informs me when a mission wraps.”

 

Steve hung his head. “I shoulda seen that coming,” he muttered. “Look, we're sorry, we should have asked if you minded-”

 

But Tony was dismissively waving his hand. “No need for apologies, Cap, we didn't mind having the kid, did we, darling?” Tony sat on the arm of Pepper’s chair, looking to her for a reply. 

 

“Of course not,” she assured. “She keeps Morgan occupied. She's always welcome.”

 

“Absolutely. Anytime. Despite the fact that she's the spitting image of her dad, she seems to have adopted your more diplomatic approach,” Tony said, tilting his head toward Steve.

 

All four of you turned your heads toward the yard when you heard a clashing sound. Morgan and Murdock were playing and, true to form for children of superheroes, they were decked out in gear of some kind. Morgan had an Iron Man helmet, gauntlets, and a chest plate. She raised her hands, palms out and a convincing sound of a firing repulsor was heard as a blue light flashed from her hands. Murdock pretended to block a non-existent beam of energy by raising her left arm, which was covered in something that strikingly resembled Bucky's vibranium arm.

 

You watched them play for a moment and your breath caught, heart stuttering. Tony was right; for a split second she was her father's clone, even in her tiny form. The way she moved, shoulder length dark hair flying, and planted her feet to use her pretend metal arm to block a pretend blow, it was all Bucky. Steve must have seen it too because neither of you could move or speak. 

 

“Murdock! Your parents are here!” Pepper called to your daughter. 

 

The girls paused and Murdock turned around. You watched her eyes light up when she spotted you and Steve and you couldn't help the wide smile that curled your lips.

 

“Mommy! Daddy!” She shouted and then she was running toward you, climbing the steps quickly, and wrapping her arms around your legs with a hug. She looked up at you and grinned before quickly moving to hug Steve. 

 

“You were gone a long time,” she whined as she looked up at Steve, her little arms not able to fully wrap around his legs.

 

Steve gave her an apologetic smile and knelt down. “I'm sorry, baby girl. I know it's hard when we have to be away,” he apologized as he pulled her into a proper hug. “We missed you. Did you have fun with Uncle Tony and Aunt Pepper?”

 

You knelt down next to Steve, reaching out to rub your hand over the covering on Murdock's arm. “It looks like Uncle Tony made you a new toy,” you remarked, eyes darting to Tony for a second.

 

“Relax, Hawklet, it's just nanites, no weapons, can't even increase strength. It's all for show. Watch. Show your mom how it works, kid,” Tony instructed. 

 

Murdock grinned and then tapped two tiny fingers at the wrist. The covering on her arm retracted into millions of tiny nanites and eventually gathered into a small charm on a bracelet. Murdock grinned at you, showing you the bracelet.

 

“That's awesome,” you remarked, smiling back at your daughter. 

 

"Just like Dad," Murdock said proudly as she reactivated the nanites and the replica of Bucky's arm climbed up to cover hers again. She struck a pose, swinging her “metal” arm in a circle and fixing you with a deadly stare, brows furrowed, steel blue eyes serious.

 

You choked on a gasp and stood back up, feeling the wind being knocked out of you. Steve stood too, placing his hand on your back as he watched you try to control the shock on your face and to your system. 

 

Steve gave Murdock a smile and a small laugh. “Yeah, honey, you look just like your dad,” he agreed wholeheartedly.

 

“My dad, Bucky,” Murdock said emphatically. “I don't look like you, Daddy,” she pointed out with a giggle. “No shield, see?” She spun in a circle with a laugh to emphasize her point.

 

“That's true, kid,” Tony agreed. “We'll get you a shield so you can look like both your dads.”

 

Murdock squealed in enthusiastic agreement. She ran back off toward Morgan again. 

 

You watched her go, still feeling a little shaken by the ghost you had just seen. You felt Steve gently rubbing your back and you turned to look at him. 

 

“She looked just like him,” you breathed.

 

“She certainly did,” Steve agreed, pulling you a little closer to his side. “Right down to his menacing Winter Soldier glare.”

 

“Yeah, like I said. She's the spitting image of her old man,” Tony reiterated. 

 

***

 

The jet ride back to the compound was brief, but Murdock was out cold almost as soon as you were wheels up. She lay passed out in your lap while Steve gently guided the jet down to land in the hangar.

 

“Do you want me to take her? Steve offered as you stood.

 

“No, I've got her. You get all our gear,” you replied.

 

You left Steve to figure out how to bring in all your tactical gear and baggage while you brought your daughter inside. A few moments later you had her tucked into her bed. You were softly closing her door when you heard Steve coming down the hallway, his arms full.

 

“You might as well put them in the laundry room,” you instructed. “I'm sure everything needs washed.”

 

Steve simply nodded and headed toward the laundry. You walked out to the kitchen, yawning and stretching your tired limbs, as you turned on the kettle to make some tea. You leaned back absently against the counter, waiting for the water and your mind began to wander.

 

You couldn't shake the image of Murdock as she pretended to be Bucky. It made your heart soar and crack all at the same time. It was a strange juxtaposition.

 

Eventually your mind began to conjure what it would look like to have a carbon copy like that, but of Steve. You pictured a little sandy-haired, blue-eyed boy holding a tiny shield and you involuntarily smiled.

 

You didn't realize the kettle was whistling, lost in your little daydream, until Steve was standing next to you turning it off. “Hey, love, where'd you go?” He asked as he poured hot water into your mug. 

 

You shook your head a little, looking up to give him a shy smile. “Oh I was just thinking,” you replied quietly. You reached up to grab the honey from the cupboard. 

 

“Well, what were you thinking about?” He asked as he turned to lean back against the counter, gripping the edge with his hands. “You had kind of a dreamy look on your face. Were you thinking about me?” He tilted his head to the side and gave you a cheeky grin. 

 

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help the smile you donned at his cheesy comment. “No, Rogers, I was not thinking about you.”

 

Steve pretended to look disappointed and you laughed again. You steeped your tea bag silent for a couple seconds, trying to decide if you wanted to share your thoughts. 

 

“I was thinking about the prospect of a little you,” you finally shared. “Imagining what it would be like.”

 

Steve's grin slackened. He stood up straighter, turning just a little toward you. “Really?” He asked in a hushed tone, clearly afraid if he said too much, you might shut him down.

 

You bit your lip just a little and nodded, a small smile on your lips. “Really,” you confirmed. “And… I think I like the idea.”

 

***

 

You walked out of the bathroom to where Steve was waiting on the other side, arms hugged tightly around himself. He looked up at you expectantly, his jaw ticking as he fought to control his nerves. 

 

“I'm not pregnant,” you said, holding up a negative test to show him.

 

He continued to tightly control his emotions, but you could see just a hint of disappointment.

 

“Are you okay?” He cautiously asked. 

 

You sighed and sat on the bed. “Yeah, I'm fine. Honestly, I don't know what I was hoping for. I'm still unsure about the idea,” you confessed. “But I know you're disappointed. I'm sorry.”

 

Steve sat next to you, immediately wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest. “Don't do that. You have nothing to be sorry about, sweetheart. You can feel however you feel about it. We don't have to worry about it anymore and you can go get your birth control shot and we'll just forget it, if that's what you want.”

 

You sighed as you rested against his shoulder. “Maybe we just don't get the shot and let whatever's going to happen, happen.”

 

Steve's hands that were rubbing your back stopped. He sat back a little so he could see your face. “Is that really what you wanna do?” His question was quiet and unassuming, but you didn't miss the glint of hope in his expression. 

 

You smiled. “Yeah, babe. Let's do it. Let's see what the universe has in store for us.”

 

***

 

…1 year later…

 

You burst through the door of your bedroom, eyes searching the hallway, heading toward the kitchen. You clutched the test tightly in your hand, trying to stay composed, at least until you found him, but it felt like you might burst. You finally spotted Steve standing in the doorway, staring at a video feed suspended over the kitchen table. 

 

“Steve! Honey, I need to-” you began but he clearly wasn't paying attention.

 

You could hear a video playing and you stopped to watch, feeling your heart skip as you did so.

 

“Oh, hi, hi! Uh, Is anyone home? This is, uh, Scott Lang. We met a few years ago at the airport…”

 

“Is this an old message?” Steve said as he stared at the feed. 

 

“It's the front gate,” you breathed, jaw falling open. 

 

In an instant, Steve was granting access to open the front gate and then he was dashing for the door.

 

You stayed still for a beat, frozen with confusion, you looked down at the pregnancy test in your hand. The positive test. You shoved it into the pocket of your hoodie and then you were running after Steve, chest humming as your mind flooded with panic and possibilities… and hope. 

Chapter 24: Whatever It Takes

Notes:

You know, the hardest part of writing this so far has been having watch all the sadness parts of Endgame over and over so I could get the blocking and dialogue right. Just straight up torture😭

“Wait. Are you talking about a time machine?” Steve asked as he watched Scott chew on the peanut butter sandwich he had made for himself and then surrendered.

 

“No. No, of course not. No, not a time machine,” Scott stammered as he continued to chew and pace. “This is more like a…” he gestured circularly, then huffed. “Yeah. Like a time machine.”

 

You watched Steve's jaw tick. 

 

“I know, it's crazy. It's crazy,” Scott continued stammering. “But I can't stop thinking about it. There's gotta be… some way… It's crazy,” Scott conceded with a sigh as he looked down at his sandwich. 

 

“Scott, I get emails from a raccoon so nothing sounds crazy anymore,” you stated.

 

“So, who do we talk to about this?” Scott asked. 

 

You and Steve looked at each other, knowing exactly where you had to go.

 

***

 

“Shit,” Tony said as he fell back into his chair. 

 

“Yeah, shit,” Steve echoed, running a hand down his face, as you all stared at the hologram where Friday was confirming that this idea was viable.

 

“Shit!” Two quiet little voices echoed from behind you, causing you, Tony, and Steve to snap your heads toward the stairs.

 

Morgan and Murdock were sitting on the stairwell, watching you and grinning. Steve sighed, walking over to them, but he was smiling. “You two are supposed to be asleep,” he stated, hands on his hips, raising an eyebrow, giving them his best Captain America stare.

 

“We want juice pops!” Morgan declared and Murdock followed suit, beginning a chorus of ‘juice pops’ and giggling.

 

“Alright, alright,” Tony conceded. “Back upstairs, and I'll get you some… if you promise not to tell your mother,” Tony said, giving Morgan a look.

 

“Promise,” she agreed. 

 

The giggly girls retreated back up the stairs. 

 

“I'll be right back,” Tony said, shuffling off to get the promised treats and then he was climbing the stairs too. 

 

You and Steve were silent, watching the hologram in front of you as it repeated a loop of the formula needed to achieve your crazy goal; the goal of bringing back half the universe. You hadn't spoken much since Scott showed up and brought this possibility to your doorstep. At least, you hadn't spoken about the things that you really needed to; like the fact that there was suddenly a possibility that your dead husband could shortly be very not dead… or the fact that you just found out you were carrying his child.

 

You didn't even know where to start, and it seemed neither did Steve. But one of you had to try. So you took a deep breath and stepped closer to him. You released the breath you were holding when he reached over and hooked his arm around your waist. 

 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he breathed quietly as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

 

You smiled and nestled into his side. “Hey,” you replied. “I know we don't want to, but you gotta talk about what this means.”

 

“I know.”

 

“If this works, he'll be back.”

 

“I know.”

 

“And for him, it'll be that day, five years, nothing will have changed. He'll expect me to be there, his wife,” you swallowed and put a hand on your stomach. “Carrying his child.”

 

“I know, YN,” Steve said with a sigh of frustration. He let go of you and paced over before dropping into a chair, putting his head in his hands. “It's all I think about. He'll come back and the only thing he'll know is that I took his wife and raised his daughter and stole his life.”

 

Steve let out an exasperated groan. “What am I supposed to tell him; hey, Buck, I missed ya, buddy. Mind if we share?”

 

You laughed a little, sinking down to sit on your knees in front of the chair he occupied. “I'm not sure if Bucky would ever be the sharing type.”

 

You quietly ran your hands over Steve's legs, trying to bring him some kind of comfort. You didn't really have answers either. But you loved him and you wanted to ease his mind. 

 

“I don't have any answers yet,” you started carefully. “But I do know we can't keep him from Murdock. He's her dad and they both deserve to have each other in their lives.”

 

“And what about you?” Steve asked, raising his head to look at you. You thought you might be knocked over by all the sorrow and heartache you saw brewing in his eyes. 

 

You bit your lip, your own eyes pricking with tears. “I don't know, Steve,” you said truthfully. “The only honest answer I have right now is that I love you both. I never got over him. I never had to. He was just gone and he lived in my heart and that was it. I didn't have to get rid of him to make room for you, so I didn't.”

 

Steve reached out, forcefully grabbed your face, and sealed your lips together in a desperate kiss. Your hands reached up to cover his and you felt so much fear and pain pouring out of him as he kissed you with everything he could find. He finally pulled away and you were gasping for breath. 

 

“Baby, I love you, God, I love you so much,” he breathed as he pressed his forehead to yours. “But I know what you and Bucky had. Anyone could see it, could feel it when you were in a room. You were like magnets, just drawn to each other and nothing could get in the way. I wanna be selfish, pull you close and keep you, everything else be damned, God, I've never wanted to be so selfish in my life. But I can't and I won't. I want you to know; if you choose him, and I think you will, I won't stand in the way. I'll understand.”

 

You couldn't stop the tears. They were streaming and you were fighting back sobs. You didn't know how to respond. Was he right? Would you fall back into Bucky's arms the moment you saw him? You had no idea. You did know you were pregnant with Steve's baby. He didn't know that yet, but you did, and you had to think that would factor in somehow. You had to believe your heart wouldn't make you hurt both of them. 

 

You needed to tell him.

 

“Steve, I-” but once again your efforts were thwarted as Tony returned.

 

***

 

A few days later, you found yourself at the Barton homestead, sitting at the kitchen table while Clint nursed a beer, the scene feeling like deja vu. 

 

“You gotta tell him, Kes,” Clint said quietly. “No matter what happens tomorrow, he deserves to know.”

 

You sat back, running your hand down your face as you stared out the open window over the sink. “I know,” you agreed. “Things have just been so chaotic and every time I try to bring it up, we get distracted.”

 

“And you're scared because you don't know what you're gonna do when you see Bucky again,” Clint voiced what had been silently eating at you for the last week. 

 

You swallowed and slowly nodded. “I miss him every day, Hawk. I've never stopped thinking about him. I never thought I had to, given the circumstances,” you chewed at your cheek, trying to keep yourself calm as you turned back to look at Clint. “Steve said he thinks I'll go back to him once he's here and that he won't stand in the way. I don't know, but what if he's right?”

 

Clint set his beer down and leaned forward. “This is an impossible situation. No one has had to deal with it before and there is no wrong or right answer. You can't beat yourself up for feeling what you feel and being a human being,” Clint said firmly and kindly. “I will say this much, Kes; you and Steve have been together a long time now. You've raised a daughter together. You're happy. And you just told me you're having his kid. That's a lot of reasons to fight for something.”

 

“You're right, it is. And I know what you're saying… but it's Bucky. And Murdock is his daughter. We'll have to deal with that no matter what. And… if I decide to go back to him- I'm not saying I will,” you quickly added, wanting to be clear. 

 

Clint put his hands up. “I understand, I'm not judging you.”

 

“If that were to be the case… if I don't tell Steve I'm pregnant… then I could save everyone a little heartache by not keeping it and it will be one less complication,” you said, voice a little shaky. 

 

Clint slowly nodded. He leaned further forward and reached across the table to take your hand. As soon he made contact, you felt tears streaming down your face. 

 

“I don't know what to do, Clint. I'm so scared,” you confessed. 

 

Clint got out of his chair, came to stand beside you, and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. You let yourself fall against his torso as the tears kept coming. You felt him kiss the crown of your head. 

 

“You can be scared, Kes. That's fine. You can deal with this however you need to. But tomorrow's coming, one way or another,” Clint reminded. He pulled at your shoulders so you would sit back a bit and he crouched down next to you. 

 

“You can decide all this later. If you don't know if you want to keep the baby, fine, you can deal with that later too,” he soothed. “But we don't really know how tomorrow is going to go. So, tonight, you should just be here, with them. Okay?”

 

You nodded, wiping your face and taking a deep breath. You both turned as you saw a light flash briefly through the window.

 

“He's here,” you whispered. Clint stood again and so did you.

 

You made your way to the front porch and watched as Steve walked toward the house, Murdock bouncing alongside him. She caught sight of Clint and broke out into a sprint. With a giggle, she launched herself at him and Clint caught her with a deep laugh, swinging her into his arms.

 

“Hey, squirt, I missed you,” Clint said as he kissed her head. 

 

“Missed you too, Papa,” Murdock said with a smile. “Daddy said you have to go to work with them tomorrow, too?”

 

Clint shook his head as he began walking toward the barn and your apartment. “Yeah, sorry, honey, but this time, we all gotta go. But you'll stay here with Gamma and Auntie Kate, okay?”

 

Murdock nodded slightly, still seeming a little confused. Clint walked her into her room and set her down on her bed. You and Steve were close behind, watching from the doorway. 

 

“Mommy and Daddy said that I might meet my dad Bucky, but I don't understand,” Murdock said quietly, she grabbed a stuffed animal (a white wolf, ironically) and hugged it to her chest. “I thought you can't meet people if they die. Does that mean I can meet Auntie Nat too?”

 

You threw your hand over your mouth to stifle the squeak that threatened to escape when you heard your daughter's question. You watched as Clint's whole body went rigid and he sucked in an involuntary breath. Your eyes darted to Steve and you could see he was clenching his jaw, forcing his features to stay in submission. 

 

Clint cleared his throat and tried to relax. “No, squirt, I'm afraid that's not how it works. I'm sorry, I know it's hard to understand. We'll try and explain more about it later, okay?”

 

Murdock continued to look confused, but she nodded her head. “Okay, Papa,” she agreed. 

 

Clint gave her a warm smile and beeped her nose. “I love you, squirt.”

 

She smiled back. “Love you, Papa,” she returned and threw her small arms around his neck. 

 

“See you in a few days,” he whispered as he kissed her head again 

 

Clint stood and came to the doorway. He paused and you gave him a smile. He leaned in and kissed your temple. “Try to sleep, Kes. I'll see you tomorrow.”

 

You nodded and smiled back as best you could. Clint clasped Steve's shoulder and the two men nodded at each other before he disappeared through the door. You heard the front door click closed as he left. 

 

Steve crossed the room and sat down on the bed with Murdock, pulling her into his lap. “What should we read tonight, baby girl?”

 

Murdock looked thoughtful for a moment, tapping her finger on her cheek, a habit, you realized, she got from you. You smiled as you watched them, still leaning against the doorframe.

 

“... Sure, we can read The Hobbit,” Steve was saying, he looked up at you, his eyes questioning. “Can you grab it from the bookshelf, love?”

 

You nodded and smiled, going out to the large bookshelf in the living room to retrieve the book. You brought it back, taking a seat on the bed as well, and handing Steve the book. You watched and listened as he read to her, his love and warmth pouring into every page. Murdock smiled and made comments and Steve looked down at her with adoration. She turned to you and snuggled against your side and you kissed her forehead. Steve finished a chapter and told her that was all for tonight. Murdock nodded with a yawn. 

 

“Daddy, is your mission tomorrow dangerous?” She asked as her eyes started to look heavy. 

 

Steve felt his heart clench and you looked at him with understanding. You reached out and squeezed his arm. You and Steve both got off the bed and he tucked Murdock in, kneeling on the ground beside her. 

 

“Yeah, honey, I'm afraid it is,” Steve replied honestly. Steve looked up and watched as you rounded the bed and kneeled next to him. 

 

“What do we always tell you before we go away for a mission, Murdock, do you remember?” You asked your daughter as you gently stroked her hair. 

 

“You and Daddy will do everything you can to come home, but if you can't, then I won't be alone,” Murdock repeated like she had hundreds of times before. 

 

“That's right, baby girl,” Steve assured her. “And no matter what happens, your mom and I love you so very much.” Steve leaned forward to kiss her cheek and you could see he was fighting to hold back tears. 

 

“We'll see you in a few days. Auntie Kate will be here when you wake up, okay,” you said as you leaned in to kiss her as well.

 

“Okay, Mommy,” she said as her eyes slid shut. “Love you. Love you, Daddy.” Murdock all but whispered and then she was asleep. 

 

You and Steve stood and quietly left the room, closing the door behind you. You barely caught Steve's eye as he rushed to the kitchen, but you saw the tear stains on his cheeks. You followed him cautiously and watched as he slowly paced the kitchen, hands on his hips, head tilted back as he tried to control his breathing and stem the crying. 

 

“I just can't shake the feeling that this is the end. Like this is the last night I'll have with her- with you- with my family,” he said without looking at you.

 

He paced to the other end of the room again and before he could turn around and go back, you stood in his way. He stopped when his body got to yours and you wrapped your arms tightly around his waist, pressing your cheek to his chest. You felt his muscles tense and flex, like he was thinking about pushing you aside and continuing to pace, but after a few seconds he wrapped his arms around you as well and rested his cheek on top of your head. 

 

You stood like that for a few minutes and you listened to his breathing slowly even out. More seconds ticked by before you finally spoke. 

 

“We don't have any idea what will happen tomorrow,” you started, with a slow and even tone. “We don't know if this will work. We don't know what will happen even if it does. All we know for sure is that we're going to try. Whatever happens after, we'll deal with it as it comes.”

 

You picked your head up and looked Steve in the eye, making sure to continue to give off calm and soothing vibes. “Tonight we're here. Tonight it's you and me, okay?”

 

Steve nodded silently. You felt his hands on your back slowly stroking your body and you tried to give him a small smile. “I love you, Steven Grant Rogers,” you stated firmly. 

 

Steve's only response was to crash his lips into yours. He kissed you with an urgency you hadn't felt before. His hands on your body sunk into you and pulled you against him like was trying to imprint you on his soul. Your arms around his torso slipped under his shirt and you raked your nails over his skin. Steve moaned into your mouth and you slipped your tongue in, caressing and stroking his tongue with your own.

 

Steve's arms left go of your back and slipped over your ass, to grab the backs of your thighs. He lifted you to wrap your legs around his waist and your arms moved to wind around his neck. He was walking you toward your bedroom, lips never leaving yours, as he kicked the door closed behind you. He turned you around, bracing you against the door, which surprised you a little, before his lips finally left yours and you were gasping for air.

 

Steve's lips kissed, strong and urgent, down your neck, pausing to suck at your pulse point, as he pressed you more firmly against the door and you moaned. You reached back and grabbed the neck of his shirt, harshly yanking to pull out over his head. He let go of you thighs, bracing you against the door and resting you on one of his legs so he could allow you to pull his shirt off and throw it away. You raked your nails over his bare chest, hard, leaving marks, and he groaned loudly as his hands returned to your thighs and began shoving your dress upward. You lifted your arms and pulled your dress over your head, tossing it away too, before his lips were back on yours.

 

Steve pressed his bare upper body into yours and hissed at the feeling of your skin connecting. You moaned, feeling your sensitive nipples pressed against his skin and your legs tightened around him. You reached between your bodies and started undoing his jeans as his lips moved along your shoulders, leaving hot, wet kisses on every inch of your skin. You shoved at his jeans and they fell from his hips and you were quick to push his boxers down too. Steve's tongue was running over your collarbone and you whined at the feeling of his cock poking at your ass. 

 

“You're not overly attached to these panties, are you?” He asked between kisses to your neck. 

 

“Mhmm, what?” You replied, not really understanding, the way he was making your mind cloudy.

 

He gave a dark chuckle and then with one swift motion, he ripped your panties from your body and discarded them. You yelped in surprise, but you didn't have time to think about it because he was adjusting your legs and lining his cock up with your entrance. He paused to stroke you with his fingers, pressing his thumb strongly against your clit and you cried his name. Steve groaned in reply and buried himself inside you. 

 

You clung to his shoulders like a lifeline as he thrust you into the door. Every stroke felt like a promise, a prayer, a pleading whisper for you to stay here in his arms. He swallowed your moans and cries, drinking you in like he was dying of thirst. You clawed at his back and shoulders, completely overwhelmed with the way he was filling your soul, stealing the air from your lungs and dominating your body. 

 

He released your lips as his movements became more uneven and you gulped air into your lungs screaming as he hit that spot inside you, hard, and you came, stars bursting behind your eyes, legs shaking violently. A cry of your name left Steve's lips as he thrust into one last time and stilled as his release overtook him.

 

He didn't put you down. Didn't move an inch as both your chests heaved for air. His forehead fell forward against yours and you grabbed his face with your hands.

 

“I love you, YN Barnes Rogers,” he forced out as he continued to try and steady his breathing. “No matter what happens, please tell me you'll remember this moment. Please tell me you'll always know,” he pleaded.

 

You stroked your thumbs along his cheeks. “I'll remember. I promise.”

 

***

 

You were all standing on the platform, geared up, ready to go. There was determination in the air as everyone waited for Steve to give the order. 

 

“Five years ago we lost. All of us,” Steve said, looking around at everyone in succession. “We lost friends. We lost family. We lost a part of ourselves. Today we have a chance to take it all back. You know your teams. You know your missions. Get the stones. Get them back. One round trip each. No mistakes, no do overs. Most of us are going somewhere we know. That doesn't mean we should know what to expect. Be careful. Look out for each other. This is the fight of our lives, and we're gonna win,” Steve turned to look at you. “Whatever it takes.”

 

Steve looked across the platform again. “Good luck.”

 

You watched Tony and Bruce as they prepped the machine and heard Rocket reminding Steve to bring his ship back in one piece.

 

You turned to Clint and gave him a mischievous smile. “See ya in a minute.”

 

Clint smiled back and winked. Everyone engaged their helmets and then you were gone, flying through whatever reality was bringing you to your destination.

 

***

 

“You guys watch each other's six,” Rhodey called as you and Steve climbed the ramp to the ship.

 

Then in a blink, you were flying through space and landing on (another) foreign planet. You got out, examining you surrounding and then you and Steve were climbing. 

 

“I'll bet the raccoon didn't have to climb a mountain," you grumbled as you neared the top. 

 

Steve went to reply, but a voice from behind made you both draw weapons and stand at the ready.

 

“Welcome, Captain Rogers,” a thick accent called. “It's pleasant to see you again. And you, YN, daughter of Phillip, welcome.”

 

Steve's posture stiffened as the shadow containing the voice stepped out to be seen. You furrowed your brow at the red faced floating figure. 

 

“And who are you?” You asked. 

 

“Consider me a guide, to you and to all who seek the Soul Stone,” he responded. 

 

“Oh good, then show is where it is and we'll be on our way,” you demanded. 

 

He laughed quietly and you saw Steve tense. You thought he muttered something in German. “If only it were that easy,” he replied.

 

“What do you mean and what are you doing here, Schmidt?” Steve demanded, stepping forward protectively. 

 

“Follow me,” was the red faced figures only response. 

 

He led you to a ledge. “What you seek lies in front of you. As does what you fear.”

 

You stepped to the edge and peered over. “The stone’s down there.”

 

“For one of you,” the person Steve had addressed as Schmidt answered. “For the other… In order to take the stone, you must lose that which you love.”

 

Steve stepped towards you and you both stared over the ledge at the cold ground below.

 

“An everlasting exchange,” Schmidt continued. “A soul for a soul.”

 

You and Steve looked at each other. “What?” You said breathlessly. 

 

The next several minutes were a lot of arguing and pacing as you and Steve tried to figure out what to do.

 

“You have to let me do it. It has to be me,” Steve insisted.

 

“No, this is insane,” you shouted. “How the hell do we know he's not just some idiot playing tricks? How do we know he even has the stone?”

 

“We don't, YN, but we don't have a choice.”

 

“We don't have a choice?!” You screamed indignantly. “We can leave and not do this, Steve. That's our fucking choice. What we don't have to do is sacrifice our lives not knowing if this will work.”

 

Steve took a deep breath and put his hands on your shoulders. “Sweetheart, just look at me,” he quietly asked. 

 

You turned your face toward him, eyes brimming with unshed tears.

 

“You gotta let me go. This is our only shot. You have to let me do this.”

 

The tears fell and you choked on a sob. “You can't, I can't, I- I'm pregnant.”

 

Steve's whole body stiffened and for a split second he forgot what was happening. “You're pregnant?” He breathed as a stunned half grin lit up his face. 

 

You bit your lip, shaking your head. “Yeah, baby, I am,” you confirmed. 

 

Steve laughed, moving his hands to cup your cheeks. He kissed you sweet and slow and you grabbed his wrists. He released your mouth and you rested your foreheads together. 

 

“Honey, I'm so happy,” Steve said. He swallowed and steadied his voice. “But it's Bucky's turn now. I gotta go, baby. I love you so much. Tell Murdock I'll miss her. Love our baby for both of us. Tell Buck I'm sorry and I hope he can forgive me.”

 

You clutched Steve's wrists digging into his skin. “No, no!” You shrieked. “Steven, don't you dare, I love you- STEVE!” You screamed as he pulled away from you and flung himself over the ledge before you could take two steps toward him. 

 

You collapsed on the ground, screaming at the top of your lungs as you doubled over on yourself. When you picked your head back up, you were no longer on the mountain, but lying in the water at the foot of the ramp to the ship. You lifted your hand and through bleary tear-filled eyes you saw a glowing orange stone in your palm.

 

***

 

The next thing you knew, you were back on the platform, surrounded by the rest of the team. You heard vague, muffled chatter asking about whether the plan worked. But you there was nothing but the ringing in your ears and the empty pit in your stomach. Your legs gave out and you collapsed onto the platform with a thud.

 

“Kes? Kes, where's Steve?" Clint was asking as he came to kneel by you. When you didn't answer he grabbed your shoulders and when your face met his, sobs wracking your frame and tears dripping from your cheeks, he knew the answer. He pulled you into his chest and you gripped his arms as you cried.

 

“Clint, what happened?” Tony repeated.

 

“Steve's gone.” He replied.

Notes:

So I'm wondering if I could get some feed back on this chapter. Did anyone see this coming? Just looking to gauge my own growth as a writer. Thanks!

Chapter 25: It's Your Turn

Hours later, Clint found you sitting on the dock. You were hugging your knees, back against the bench near the water's edge and he silently sat next to you. 

 

“How am I supposed to tell Murdock her dad isn't coming home?” You finally said after several minutes of silence.

 

“You and Steve have always prepared her for that possibility,” Clint softly reminded. “Ever since she was born, more or less. You made sure she was ready.”

 

“No one's ready to hear they'll never see someone they love again. I've been through it enough times to know,” you countered. 

 

Clint swallowed, knowing you, of all people, would know. “I'm sorry, Kes. No matter what, this isn't going to be easy. But, like you always tell your daughter, you won't be alone.”

 

“I wasn't supposed to have to lose him to get Bucky back. That wasn't the plan,” you whispered as you stared out at the calm water. “Clint, this is so incredibly fucked up and unfair.”

 

Clint nodded in agreement. “You're right, kid, it is. It's the most fucked up mess we've ever had to get through.”

 

Clint stood up, and took both your hands, yanking you to your feet before you could protest. “But we will get through it. We have to. Steve gave his life for that goddamn stone. Let's make sure it was worth it.”

 

***

 

You stood in the lab surrounded by the team as Bruce prepared to put on the glove and see if everything you'd just gone through had meant anything. You and Clint were behind Tony's energy shield, weapons drawn, completely unsure what was about to happen. 

 

“Friday, do me a favor and activate Barn Door Protocol, will ya?” Tony said. 

 

“Yes, boss,” the AI responded and blast doors dropped across all the doors and windows, sealing the lab.

 

“Everybody comes home,” Bruce said quietly as he slid his arm into the gauntlet.

 

Bruce groaned and fell to a knee as tendrils of multicolored energy laced up his arm and into his chest. 

 

“Bruce, are you okay?” You asked.

 

“Take it off! Take it off!” Thor shouted.

 

“Talk to me, Banner,” Tony said. 

 

“I'm okay. I'm okay,” Bruce breathed, eyes squeezed shut. With a deep breath and concerted effort, Bruce yelled as he brought his fingers together and snapped.

 

You watched him fall to the floor and drop the glove.

 

“Bruce!” You shouted, coming to kneel beside him. “Don't move him,” you instructed, putting a hand out to stop Thor.

 

Clint kicked the glove away from him as Tony covered his arm and shoulder in nanites to seal the wounds.

 

“Did it work?” Bruce gasped, grabbing your arm.

 

“We're not sure. It's okay,” Thor soothed, putting his hand on Bruce's forehead.

 

The blast doors had opened and Scott was making his way through, staring at the window across the hall where you could see a tree. A tree that was now full of birds. Clint heard his phone vibrating on the table and slowly walked over. He saw the name on the screen and came to a stop. Swallowing, he answered the call. 

 

“Wanda?” You heard Clint say and your heart leapt into your throat. 

 

“Guys,” Scott said from the hallway in a hushed and amazed tone. “I think it worked.”

 

But before anyone could say another word or take another step, everything was engulfed in explosions. 

 

***

 

***

 

Everything that happened next was chaos and madness. Thanos was here. Again. The compound was gone, reduced to rubble. Everyone clawed their way to the surface and instantly a fight erupted.

 

Eventually, you found yourself locked in a battle against Thanos. You Tony, and Thor. A losing battle. Your only goal was to keep him from acquiring the stones, from undoing everything, from rendering your sacrifices empty. The battle persisted. The three of you lay bloodied and broken.

 

You rolled, trying to get back to your feet and you noticed something in the rubble. You dragged yourself up, running to the object and prying it from the wreckage. Steve's shield. You gripped it tightly as you heard Thanos behind you. 

 

“In all my years of conquest… violence… slaughter…” he began slowly looking around. “It was never personal. But I'll tell you now, what I'm about to do to your stubborn… annoying little planet… I'm gonna enjoy it very, very much.”

 

You turned back to see his army was arriving, thousands and thousands blanking the battlefield. You felt despair growing in your gut, but you gripped Steve's shield, gritting your teeth. You thought about what Steve would do if he was here.

 

With a grunt, you threaded your arm through the shield and tightened it down in place. You set your jaw in determination and slowly walked toward Thanos again.

 

Then there was a crackle in your com, a distant, faded voice. 

 

“Hey, Cap, you read me?… Cap, it's Sam. Can you hear me?”

 

You froze, putting your hand to your ear.

 

“On your left,” Sam said.

 

You slowly turned over your left shoulder to see a portal opening. The glowing ring increased in size and slowly, figures emerged. Your shoulders slumped with relief as tears filled your eyes. It worked.

 

Sam flew out, encircling you from above. Additional portals started opening across the area. Stephen. You saw Stephen and another wave of relief hit you, only to be overridden with pure joy when the next person you laid eyes on was your nephew. 

 

“Peter!” You shouted, feeling tears spill out.

 

T’Challa was chanting as dozens of Wakandan warriors were streaming forward. Scott emerged from the rubble, blasting his way through in his giant form. The battlefield was flooding with returning friends and allies. Everyone was poised, determined to win this fight.

 

You took a deep breath, raising Steve's shield and praying for him to be with you in spirit.

 

“AVENGERS!” You shouted. “Assemble.”

 

And with that, chaos erupted again. Fighting and shouting and mayhem was everywhere. You could barely keep track of anything or anyone. You swung the shield and blocked blows and just kept moving. 

 

Then you heard a familiar voice shouting behind you. Your heart stopped and for a split second the noise of the battle faded away. You turned in slow motion, it felt like, and there he was, running toward you at a breakneck pace, barreling through anything and anyone that got in his way. You couldn't move. You felt like you were hallucinating.

 

Bucky finally reached you, letting his gun sling to the side as he grabbed you with a hand around your waist and the other behind your head.

 

“Hey, doll,” he whispered before pulling you into a kiss, one that was filled with relief.

 

It was only a split second, that's all you could spare given the circumstances, but it felt like a lifetime. It felt like you were finally breathing after spending far too long trapped underwater. It felt like a part of your soul was finally returned. 

 

Bucky broke away, forcefully shoved you behind him, and gunned down enemies that were headed your way. You saw more coming on his six and you launched the shield, knocking them down, before it returned to you. You grimaced a little at the impact, but kept going. 

 

“Woah, when did you get so good with Steve's shield?” Bucky asked, grinning at you as you continued fighting. “And why do you have it?”

 

“Buck! Maybe we can talk about this later?” You groaned as you fought off three assailants at once. 

 

“You got it, doll,” he said with his devilish grin, the one that made your heart stop, and then he was back to being a blur of movement as you fought back to back.

 

***

 

When later finally came and everything was done, there were no words for what you had just been through. All you could think about was what Stephen had told you all those years ago when he said there was only one way to win; that the cost would be staggering. 

 

And that's exactly what it was, you realized, as you held your devastated nephew in your arms, watching Clint pilot the quinjet back to the farm. Bucky was sitting on the bench behind you. You couldn't see him, but you could feel his eyes on you. You knew he was grappling with grief and shock too, but he was forcing it down so you could help Peter. 

 

“Dr Strange said it's been five years,” Peter said slowly, clinging to you as his quiet tears trailed down your tacsuit. “Lots must have changed.”

 

You felt a gnawing in your gut. “Yeah, bug. Lots of things certainly changed.”

 

You turned your head to check on Wanda. She has barely spoken since you got in the air. She stared blankly out the viewport. You wanted to offer her some kind of comfort, but you knew first hand the kind of grief she was battling and you knew there was absolutely nothing you could offer that would lessen the pain. 

 

Peter sat up, rubbing his face and clearing his throat. He turned around.

 

“I'm really sorry about Steve, Uncle Bucky,” he said. “He was a good man, if there ever was one.”

 

You turned to see Bucky, swiping his thumb at his eye and he gave a nod. “Thanks, kid. So was Stark.”

 

You watched Bucky closely for a moment, your heart continuing to break over the pain you saw in his posture, even more so as you contemplated everything you had yet to tell him. Before you could get swept away by the ocean of anxiety, Clint was landing the jet. You stood and Peter followed suit. 

 

“You're right, Peter, there's been a lot of changes and I'll tell you all about it, but for now, just go with Clint, okay? You can stay at Kate's place tonight, since she has an extra room and I know she'll be really glad to see you. I'll explain everything in the morning,” you told him as you pulled him in for a tight hug. 

 

“Alright,” he agreed.

 

Clint and Wanda were walking down the ramp and Peter caught up to them. You saw Bucky get up and turn to follow, but you grabbed his arm. 

 

“Buck, we need to talk first,” you said, trying and failing to keep your voice steady. 

 

His face was sullen and hard and you knew he was fighting the rage that came with the loss of a loved one. But he stayed put.

 

You took a deep breath. “I wasn't lying when I told Peter there were a lot of changes,” you started out, trying to keep from bursting into tears again. “Five years is a long time. But I need to know if you're ready to hear about it now, or if you can't handle more than the grief you already have.”

 

Bucky let out a breath and rubbed at the back of his neck. He paced back and dropped into a chair, propping his elbows on his knees and resting his chin on his clasped hands. 

 

You watched him cautiously. You knew that stance. He was fighting the rage that was just beneath the surface and he was trying to detach himself, even just slightly, to keep it from causing damage. You'd only seen him like this a few times, but it never ended well.

 

“If you need time, then that's okay. You just gotta let me know. You can stay on the jet tonight and we'll make a plan for everything else tomorrow,” you offered. 

 

“You married him,” Bucky stated. He didn't look up or move. His gaze was fixed on a distant point, fists clenching and unclenching rhythmically. 

 

You took a seat across from him, watching him closely. “Who told you?” You asked. “I'm sorry you found out,” you added. “I wanted to tell you myself.”

 

Bucky gave you a knowing smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. “Nobody told me, doll. It wasn't hard to figure out.”

 

He hesitantly reached out and took your left hand. “That's not my ring,” he said as he ran his thumb over the jewelry. It felt like he wanted to let go of your hand after making his point, but he didn't. “I've never seen you that good with his shield before, and he wouldn't let just anybody train with it,” Bucky continued. He finally raised his eyes to look at you, stabbing your soul with the sadness and hurt they held. “But what really sold it was the look in your eyes when Clint told me he was gone. You only hold that kind of pain and regret for someone you love, really love. That, and the fact that you couldn't tell me yourself.”

 

You burst into tears again, dropping your head to your hands. “Bucky, I'm so sorry,” you sobbed. “I'm sure this feels like such a betrayal to you. From your perspective, yesterday, we were practically newlyweds and now you're being told I jumped in bed with your best friend. God, I can't imagine the anger and pain you're feeling,” you rambled, scrubbing your hands down your face repeatedly. 

 

You sobbed quietly for a few moments before your hands were being pulled back, gently encompassed in his, and rested in your lap. You snapped your eyes up to look at him in confusion. 

 

“You're right, doll, I am angry and hurt, because I'm human,” he began, taking a slow steadying breath.

 

“And because you're definitely the jealous type,” you added with a quiet attempt at a laugh.

 

Bucky smiled. “Yeah, I guess I am,” he admitted. “But I'm also grateful that Steve was there for you, that you didn't have to face the last five years alone. I asked him to look after you and that's exactly what he did. It'd be pretty damn stupid and selfish of me to stay mad at you for whatever happened because he was keeping his promise.”

 

You gave him a sad smile. “So you don't hate me?”

 

“Hate you? Oh, baby, of course not,” he assured you. He slid out of the chair to kneel directly in front of you, letting go of your hands so he could grab your face. “I could never hate you, doll. I'm so goddamn in love with you.”

 

He slowly pulled your face to his and placed a tender kiss to your lips. “What I need to know now is whether or not you still love me,” he breathed as he held your face in his hands and searched your eyes.

 

You tilted your head a little, giving him a look that was almost confused. “I've always loved you, Buck. That never changed.”

 

You reached into your suit and pulled out the chain where both of your wedding rings hung. “Until a week ago I thought this was all I had left of you. Well, this and-” you stopped short realizing it might be best to do this slowly. “It doesn't matter. I love you, Bucky. I always will,” you assured him and pressed your lips to his again. 

 

Kissing him felt like coming home. It was so easy and so familiar, even after all these years. You wrapped your hands around his neck and sighed against his lips, feeling momentarily freed of the pain of the last 24 hours. He broke the kiss and you dipped your head to rest your cheek against his. 

 

“I missed you so much, Bucky. I thought about you every single day. I thought I'd never see you again,” you whispered as more tears slid down your cheeks and landed on his.

 

“I'm right here, doll. I'll never leave you again,” he promised. 

 

He slid his hands down your sides and grabbed your waist, pulling you forward to sit in his lap. You straddled his thighs, your fingers sliding up to tangle in his hair and he captured your lips in another searing kiss, branding you with the fire in his veins. You moaned quietly when he moved his lips down to your neck, his grip around you tightening, pulling you flush against his body. 

 

You let yourself be flooded by the feel of him; his scent filled your nostrils, his soft dark hair between your fingers, his tongue caressing your skin, it was so familiar and calming and washed away all the ugly grief that threatened to tow you under. 

 

Bucky pulled back to breath, pressing his forehead to yours.

 

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked quietly as he ran his hands up and down your sides. “I don't want to push you. You don't have anything to prove,” he assured you.

 

You shook your head, hoping he didn't let go of you. “No, Buck, I don't want you to stop,” you earnestly replied. “But I have other things to tell you…”

 

You trailed off when his hands moved from your sides to grab your ass and pull you up against his crotch, pressing you firmly against his erection. You whined and ground your hips down against him. 

 

“What do you need to tell me, love?” Bucky asked as his fingers grabbed the zipper on the neck of your suit and started inching it down. You tightened your fingers in his hair when he slid his hands inside the suit and ran them over your skin, moaning loudly at the contact.

 

“It can wait until tomorrow,” you decided.

 

“Good,” Bucky purred as he worked his hands further into your suit and began shoving it off your shoulders. “Because I don't think I can handle any more surprises right now. I just wanna feel you.”

 

He gently pushed you down to lay on the floor. He stayed kneeled above you as he unbuckled his vest and shed it, his under shirt quickly being pulled over his head and dropped to the floor. You took a moment to admire a sight you hadn't seen in years and felt a fresh wave of arousal hit you.

 

Bucky caught you staring and gave you a lopsided grin. “Look as good as you remember, doll?” He teased as he leaned over you. 

 

“Better,” you assured him, giggling as he ran his stubble over your exposed nipples. He laid his tongue down, licking over one and you squealed, arching your back off the floor. “Damn, baby, you're real sensitive. You had a bit of a dry spell?” He smirked against your skin as he pulled your nipple into his mouth and made you arch into him again with a whine. 

 

“Do you really want me to answer that?” You asked, breathlessly as he continued to play with your breasts.

 

He ran his hands up your stomach and kneaded one in each hand. “No, probably not,” he admitted. “I think your tits got bigger, doll,” he remarked as he continued to show them attention. 

 

“I'm sure they did,” you mumbled back.

 

He groaned as you ran you hand down his body and palmed him through his pants. He let go of your breasts and grabbed your suit, shoving it down the rest of the way until it was at your ankles. Your hands flew up to undo his belt and then he was helping you push his pants down far enough for his cock to spring free. You grinned and reached down to grab his length, giving hard, long strokes. You watched his face as his lips parted and eyes squeezed shut. God, you missed seeing that look. 

 

“Bucky…” you softly purred and his cock twitched in your hands as he let out a groan.

 

“You're still gonna be the death of me, doll,” he hissed as he reached out and pushed your bent knees down, exposing your wet pussy for him. You moaned as he saw you dripping and reached out to run his fingers through your folds. You cried out and arched into his touch. 

 

“Bucky, please,” you whined and he groaned again, swiftly laying over you and lining himself up with your entrance.

 

He paused. “Are you ready for me, doll? I know it's been awhile and I don't know how-”

 

You reached back and grabbed his ass, pulling him against you and rolling your hips up to pull him in. He sunk into your heat, burying himself to the hilt in one stroke and you moaned his name. He let out a strangled cry and rested his forehead on yours as he began to move. You brought your hips up to meet him with each thrust, falling into a steady perfect rhythm as he worked you both toward your release. Your hands flew up to tangle in his hair again as his name fell from your lips like a prayer.

 

You moaned again when he angled your hips up and hit deeper, brushing over your spot with each stroke.

 

“God, I love hearing those sounds, baby,” he breathed, doing his best to pull as many moans out of you as you could give. 

 

“Bucky,” you whined, pulling at his hair. “Baby, I'm so close.”

 

He chuckled, dipping his head to attach his lips to your neck. With his next thrust, he bit at your pulse and you screamed his name, coming around his cock. Your release triggered his and his hips stuttered as he came.

 

You both took a second to catch your breath. He kissed you, all the love and devotion that you remembered still there, still coursing through him and into you.

 

When your lips parted and your eyes fluttered open, you were staring up at the man you had lost five years ago, the man you had planned to spend your life with, the man you were still madly in love with, despite everything that had happened since. You were so unbelievably grateful to have him back. It hit you like a freight train and you couldn't stop the sobbing that started. 

 

Bucky's face immediately morphed into concern. He sat back, pulling you up with him and hugged you to his chest. 

 

“Hey, hey, doll, I'm sorry,” he muttered. “Jeez, I'm so sorry. I shoulda known it was too soon. Oh, baby, forgive me, please,” he was begging as he squeezed you tight and stroked your back.

 

“No, no,” you managed to stutter through the sobs. “No, you didn't do anything wrong, Bucky. It's just- I missed you so much. Don't ever leave me like that again,” you cried, digging your fingers into his biceps as you clung to him with all your might, afraid he might disappear if you let go.

 

Bucky felt tears in his own eyes as he listened to your desperate plea. “I'm not going anywhere, doll, I swear. No matter what happens. I'll be right here.”

 

“I really hope not,” you muttered quietly as your breathing began to steady, the tears slowing down. “I hope you mean that.”

 

Bucky grabbed your face and made you look at him. “I put that ring on your finger and made you a promise that I wouldn't leave. I meant that. I know things have changed and everything is a mess. I know that. But I'm gonna keep that promise. You gotta believe me.”

 

You searched his face but found nothing but determination. 

 

“I believe you, Buck,” you breathed. 

 

***

 

You brought Bucky back to your apartment in the barn. Clint had said they would keep Murdock tonight and you were ever so grateful because you did not have the bandwidth to introduce Bucky to his daughter and have to tell her that Steve was gone. Not tonight. 

 

Bucky looked around as you set things down and kicked off your boots.

 

“This is nice. When did Clint put this in?” Bucky asked as he took off his boots. 

 

“After the Snap,” you replied. “He and Laura decided they need to officially have enough space for everyone.”

 

“When did you and Steve move in?”

 

“Oh, we didn't. We stayed at the compound. We just spent a lot of time here, so Clint made sure we had a place to stay.”

 

You went to the kitchen, suddenly aware of how badly you needed water and you were filling your third glass watching Bucky peruse around the space, when you stopped in your tracks.

 

Bucky was looking at pictures and paintings on the walls. His gaze stopped at a frame sitting on the bookshelf. He picked up. You knew which one it was. It was one of your favorites. He walked over to you, cradling the frame. He turned it toward you and you stared at the picture of Steve holding Murdock in his lap while he read her a book. 

 

“She looks like me,” Bucky quietly remarked, his finger tracing gently on the glass.

 

You set down your water and took a deep breath. “That's because she's yours,” you replied just as quietly.

 

Bucky's eyes slowly moved from the photo to meet yours. “So you decided to keep it,” he said. “I didn't know if you would, since you never told me.”

 

You shook your head. “Steve told me you figured it out, after you were gone. I thought you died without knowing, but he told me you knew.”

 

“Actually, Steve figured it out,” he said with a muted chuckle. He set the picture down. “I didn't think you would keep it. I knew you didn't want kids. Did you-” you watched him pause to compose himself. “Did you change your mind for Steve?” He asked, trying to maintain a calm face, but you could see how crushed he would be if that was the case.

 

You put your hand on top of his where it rested on the counter. “No, Bucky. I changed my mind because of you,” you assured him. You saw him relax and he put his other hand on top of yours. “I changed my mind because you were gone and the only thing I had left was this part of you inside of me. I couldn't lose that. It was a gift.”

 

You took a breath to steady yourself. “But you also have to know that Steve was her dad in every way that mattered. He was there from the day she was born.”

 

Bucky slowly nodded. “He was here. I wasn't. I get it,” he said quietly. “Does she… know about me?” His question was so soft you almost missed it. 

 

You tilted your head, giving him the softest look you could manage. “Of course she does. We talked about you everyday. We made sure you were as much a part of her life as you could be. She knows you're her dad.”

 

Bucky smiled. “I'm a dad. Oh, that sounds strange,” he remarked with a light laugh. 

 

You laughed too. “Well, I hope you can get used to it. She wants to meet you. She always has.”

 

He looked up at you with excitement and more than a little fear. “I hope I don't disappoint her,” he said as he rubbed at his neck. 

 

You really laughed at that as you poured another glass of water and handed it to him. “You can't disappoint her, Buck, she's your carbon copy. I swear there's nothing about that girl that comes from me.”

 

Bucky turned toward you, tilting his head with a wry smile. “I'm sure that's not true,” he disagreed. He pointed to a sketch that hung from the fridge with a magnet. “She definitely didn't get that from me.”

 

You glanced at the drawing and shook your head. “Or me, that's all Steve,” you countered.

 

Bucky shook his head at your stubborn refusal. He sipped at his water and kept wandering slowly, looking at pictures and paintings, trying to learn more about the years he missed. He paused at a framed painting in the hallway near the door.

 

“And this? You gonna try and tell me she didn't get that from you?” He was pointing at another piece of artwork Murdock had made, a recent one, a painting of a lake and mountains from a family trip earlier in the year.

 

You smiled. “Alright, I guess she got some things from me,” you conceded. You walked over to stand near Bucky and pointed at a picture on the shelf to his right. 

 

“But she's your spitting image, Buck, I mean look,” you said. 

 

Bucky examined the picture and he couldn't argue with you. There was his daughter, posed with a steely, menacing look on her face and some kind of covering that looked just like his metal arm covering her own. The resemblance was undeniable.

 

“Wow…,” he breathed as he stared at the photo. “Who taught her that look?”

 

“Nobody taught her anything. It came with your genes, apparently,” you said with a chuckle. 

 

You watched Bucky's smile get a little wider and maybe just a little dopier as he looked at the picture. You couldn't help but smile too, so grateful that you were given this second chance. 

 

“Is she here?” Bucky asked. “We're not gonna wake her up, are we?” He said, dropping his voice to a whisper. 

 

“No, she's up at the main house with Clint and Laura,” you replied. “I really didn't know how this was going to go and I didn't think any of us could handle that kind of confrontation tonight,” you admitted. You dropped your eyes and your voice got smaller. “And she doesn't know about Steve yet.”

 

Bucky nodded, his face looking sullen again. “I can't imagine what that will be like for her. God, I wish she didn't have to go through that,” he quietly lamented, running a hand down his face. 

 

You just watched him for a moment, feeling simultaneously heartbroken and happy, which was so odd. You stepped closer to him and wrapped your arms around his waist, curling into his side. He instinctively wrapped an arm around you.

 

“You're gonna be a good dad, Buck,” you whispered into his side.

 

“I hope so, doll. I'll definitely try my hardest,” he replied, pulling you tighter to his side.

 

You stood holding each quietly for a few moments and you decided to tell him everything and get it over with. 

 

“The last thing Steve said was ‘tell Bucky I'm sorry and I hope he can forgive me’,” you shared.

 

“That punk. The last thing he said shoulda been telling his girl that he loved her,” he chided with a quiet chuckle.

 

“Don't speak ill of the dead,” you chided back, but you were smiling. “He said that too,” you assured.

 

“Of course I forgive him. Like I said before, he kept his promise and I'm grateful,” Bucky said as he placed a kiss on your forehead. 

 

“Now it's your turn, Bucky,” you whispered. “Now you gotta be there to take care of the people Steve left behind, just like he did for you.”

 

You lifted your head so you could look him in the eye. He smiled, reaching his hand out to tuck loose strands of hair behind your ear. “I will, doll. I'll be right here for you and our daughter,” he promised. 

 

He watched you bite your lip nervously and he furrowed his eyebrows. “What is it, baby? What aren't you telling me?”

 

You gave him a very nervous smile and grabbed his right wrist. Slowly and carefully you set his hand against your stomach.

 

Bucky watched you lay his hand on your belly and cover it with your own. Slowly his eyebrows raised up and his eyes got wider. 

 

“You're pregnant?” He asked in a hushed tone. 

 

You nodded your head, unable to speak as you held your breath waiting for his reaction. He didn't say anything, just stared at you with wide eyes. After several seconds, you started to feel panic rising in your gut.

 

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you, this was too soon, I'm so sorry, Bucky-,” you said, words spilling out quickly as your anxiety continued to climb.

 

“Baby, stop. Relax, just breathe,” he quickly said. “It's gonna be okay. I'm not angry,” he soothed. He pulled you close and tucked you under his chin. “I was just surprised, is all. It's alright.”

 

“I know this is so much to take in all at once,” you said, your words muffled against his jacket. “I probably should have spaced it out more. I'm sorry.”

 

“It's alright, doll,” he repeated.

 

“I can't imagine how hard this is for you… but, Buck, I can't give it up, just like I couldn't when it was you,” you explained. You lifted your head up to look at him again and he was nodding slightly. 

 

“This is all we have left of Steve now,” you reiterated. Bucky nodded again.

 

“If that's what you want, then okay,” Bucky stated firmly. “Steve was there for our daughter when I couldn't be. It's only right that I do the same for him.”

 

You bit your lip nervously again. “Are you sure? You can live with that?”

 

“Steve did,” he answered.

 

“Steve and I weren't together when I got pregnant with your daughter, Bucky. There was no potential resentment there. This is different. This has to feel different for you than it did for him,” you cautioned.

 

Bucky let out a slow sigh. “Yeah, baby, it does, I'm sure. I can't promise I won't have bad days or that I'll always feel good about it. I'm sure it won't be easy,” he paused to look you in the eye, making sure you knew he meant what he said. “But I love you and I'm not leaving. Steve was my brother. I owed him everything, even the fact that I ever found you. There couldn't be a better way to show how much I appreciated that than looking after his kid, especially since he did the same for me.”

 

You let out the breath you were holding. You fought back the tears that wanted to come. No more. There had been enough of those today for a lifetime. 

 

“Alright,” you said softly. “Then I guess we're gonna have another baby.”

 

Bucky smiled, his grin a little sheepish. “I feel like I have so much to learn.”

 

“Ask Clint. He'll gladly share his pearls of parental wisdom, I'm sure,” you said with a chuckle.

 

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I think I'd rather wing it than give Barton the right to gloat about that.”

 

You laughed. “You might change your mind when you meet the four year old version of yourself.”

 

You let go of him and turned to tug his vest and jacket off, hanging them by the door. 

 

“Can't wait to get me outta my clothes again, huh, doll?” He teased, wiggling his eyebrows. 

 

You rolled your eyes. “We need a shower and then sleep, Barnes,” you stated firmly.

 

You walked past him, side stepping his attempt to grab you and ducking into the bathroom. You were turning the shower on when you felt strong, warm arms snake around you from behind and his lips were at your ear.

 

“I've been sleepin’ for five years, doll,” Bucky purred softly. “I've gotta make up for lost time.”

Chapter 26: You're Not Alone

You jolted straight up off the bed, vaguely aware that you were screaming. You felt a hand on your arm, but you were flooded with panic and adrenaline and you couldn't hear or make sense of anything. Slowly, as you tried to catch your breath, things came into focus. 

 

You were in your bedroom in the barn. Steve was rubbing your back. No. Wait. Not Steve. You blinked as you turned to face him.

 

“Bucky?” You questioned, still feeling disoriented. 

 

“I'm right here, doll. It was just a nightmare,” he said soothingly.

 

You shook your head a couple times, still trying to lower your heart rate and make sense of things. Bucky was here. Maybe you were still dreaming. 

 

“Buck… you're here?” You whispered as you put your hands on his face to convince yourself. 

 

“It's me, YN,” he assured you. “Just breathe, baby. You had a pretty bad nightmare. Just try to relax.”

 

Everything was flooding back now, all the events of the day prior, all the pain and heartache. You felt it hit you like a crashing tidal wave. 

 

“I was dreaming about Steve,” you said, tucking your knees up to your chin and hugging your legs. 

 

“I know. You were calling his name,” Bucky said, continuing to gently rub your back. 

 

You rested your chin and closed your eyes, trying to take deep slow breaths. 

 

“I'm sorry,” you said, almost like a reflex. 

 

Bucky frowned. “For what, babe?” He watched you for a second, confused. “I get nightmares too, you know that. It's okay.”

 

“That you had to hear me calling his name. I know that probably sucks,” you said as you took another steadying breath. 

 

You heard Bucky softly chuckle, his hand on your back never faltering. “Sweetheart, I've called Steve's name in my sleep. Lots of times. Does it bother you?”

 

You frowned and turned your head to look at him. “Well, no, but-”

 

“But nothing, doll,” he cut you off. “He was your husband. You just went through hell. And even if none of that were true, it still wouldn't matter because you were dreaming. I'm not holding that against you.”

 

You slowly nodded and gave him a small smile, which you assumed he could see despite the darkness. “I used to call your name in my sleep all the time,” you remarked quietly. 

 

Bucky grinned in spite of himself. “Did Steve tell you that?”

 

“No, back when I was with Strange,” you explained. “As far I know, it stopped before Steve and I got together. Or, at least, he never mentioned it, anyway.”

 

“I bet you still did. He probably just didn't say anything.”

 

“You think so?” You asked. “Because he didn't notice or because he's Steve and wouldn't call me out like that?”

 

You heard Bucky laugh and then he was shifting to sit back against the headboard, gently encouraging you to follow. You did, resting against his side. 

 

“I'm sure he noticed. You talk in your sleep all the time. He was probably just too polite to ever bring it up the next day,” he answered you trailing his fingers up your arm.

 

“Wait- I talk in my sleep all the time,” you repeated, a little surprised.

 

Bucky laughed again. “Yeah, babe. No one's ever told you that before? Maybe it's more the serum and how I pick up on every little thing, who knows. But I always just kind of ignored it. Like I said before, I can't hold you responsible for the things your unconscious mind does.”

 

“Huh… did I ever say anything interesting?” You asked out of curiosity.

 

You felt him stiffen just a little and stifle another laugh. You lifted your head from his chest to look at his face and he was biting his cheek to hold back a smirk. 

 

“What?” You asked again, a smile tugging at your lips. “If it was something embarrassing, you have to tell me,” you insisted. 

 

“I really don't think you wanna know, doll,” he countered, failing to hide his smirk this time. “Or at least, I don't think you wanna know that I know,” he said more specifically, hoping you would take the hint and let it go.

 

You giggled quietly. “Oh, come on, what's the worst it could-” but you stopped abruptly when you suddenly remembered something you had long since tried to forget. “... Oh, God…” you barely whispered. You threw your hand over your face, feeling your skin flush with embarrassment.

 

Bucky laughed, louder this time. “See, this is why I never brought it up. I figured you probably woke up, and if you remembered, you sure as hell wished you didn't. Either that, or I really needed to be more worried about Barton.”

 

“Okay!” You said sharply. “You made your point, Buck. God, I'm sorry I asked,” you groaned. 

 

There was silence for a couple minutes as you just held each other and listened to the distant sound of the breeze outside. It felt so oddly normal, laying there, surrounded by his familiar scent and the feel of his hands on your skin. It felt like no time had passed; like maybe the last five years had just been a strangely realistic dream.

 

“I feel like everything feels too normal,” you said quietly. “Like I'm too… happy,” you admitted. “My husband just died. My friend of over a decade just died. I watched my home get demolished. I should be tucked into a corner, unable to move, practically catatonic, drowning in grief.”

 

You sat up, leaning back a little and wrapped your arms around your body. “What does it say about me that, out of all the things we just went through, the thing I'm feeling the most is just…grateful that you're here, that I got you back?”

 

Bucky watched you as you contemplated and voiced your concerns. You chewed at your cheek and wrapped your arms tighter around your middle, like you weren't sure whether you needed or even deserved comfort.

 

If he was being honest, he had been wondering something similar about himself. He wondered if he had been through so much pain and loss in his life that he might be numb to it at this point. Steve was his best friend, his brother, his only real family. He should be unable to think straight after that kind of loss. But he, too, was just feeling appreciative that he was laying here next to you. 

 

He took a deep breath and turned his body so he was facing you. “I think the only thing that really says is that you've been through enough of the bad to know how to appreciate the good. I'm sure it will hit you- hit both of us- eventually, and it'll probably hit hard. Or maybe it'll be in little pieces for a long time. I don't really know, doll,” Bucky reached out and gently tipped your head up with his finger, turning you to look at him. “But I know one thing for damn sure; it doesn't make you a bad person.”

 

You let his words sink in, begging your subconscious to believe him as you took a slow breath. “Grief isn't linear,” you recited.

 

Bucky gave you a questioning look. You smiled, unraveling your grip on your torso as you felt sleep calling you again. “It's something Steve used to say,” you explained. “He held a support group after we lost, mostly I think to honor Sam, but also because he couldn't stand not doing something to help all the people that he felt like he failed. He used to tell them that grief wasn't a linear process. We all experience it differently and navigating it looks different for everyone.”

 

Bucky chuckled, watching you yawn. He scooted closer to you, pulled you into his chest, and laid you both back down on the mattress. “Steve got pretty wise in his old age,” Bucky said quietly, stroking your hair and feeling your breathing get a little slower. 

 

“I'm glad Murdock wasn't here to hear me screaming his name. It would have scared her,” you voiced a thought, half asleep. 

 

Bucky continued to stroke your hair, closing his own eyes. “Murdock?” He repeated, confused for a moment, but it dawned on him quickly. “Is that her name? Our daughter?”

 

“Mhm,” you softly breathed, barely above a whisper. “Murdock Buchanan Barnes Rogers.”

 

***

A few hours later, Bucky awoke to the sun streaming in on his face. You were still sound asleep, your back to him. He sat up silently, making sure not to wake you, and slid off the bed. He walked over to the dresser where you had set out a pair of sweats and a T-shirt for him last night and threw the clothes on as he looked around the room, now illuminated by daylight.

 

He smiled to himself as he recognized paintings of mountains and landscapes that were obviously yours, some of them looked like the ones that used to hang in your room at the compound. There were pictures of you and Steve and Murdock, on various trips, it seemed. 

 

He moved silently through the room, taking it in, and paused near the door. There was a picture of you and Steve on your wedding day. He couldn't help but smile, you both looked so genuinely happy. But right next to it, there was another picture, one that surprised him. It was you and him on your wedding day, a snapshot from your first dance. You were laughing and he was smiling down at you. 

 

That's when he realized you meant it when you said you had always loved him, that you hadn't just tucked him away and forgot about him when you fell for Steve. And more than that, he realized just how much Steve had loved you both to be willing to share your heart the way he did. That, and, he thought with an internal laugh, Steve obviously wasn't the jealous type.

 

Either way, Bucky was grateful and a bit humbled. Steve really had been the best man he ever knew. His loss would echo for a long time.

 

Bucky took a deep breath, pulling himself back to the present and quietly left the room, closing the door behind him. He headed to the kitchen, realizing he didn't actually know when the last time either of you had eaten was, and decided he would try and make breakfast.

 

He was scrambling eggs on the stove when he turned around and on the other side of the breakfast bar there was a pair of pale blue eyes staring back at him. He froze, fighting the instinct to grab a weapon, and willing his mind to recognize that the little girl was not a threat.

 

There was silence for a few heartbeats, before Bucky finally realized he was the adult and he needed to say something. 

 

“... Hi,” he said quietly, giving her a nervous half grin. “I'm, uh… do you know who I am?”

 

Murdock stared back for a moment before her face broke out in a wide grin and she giggled. “Of course I do! You're Bucky. You're my dad!”

 

Before his mind could register what was happening, she ran around the bar and threw her arms around his legs in what was a surprisingly strong hug for someone so small. Bucky felt like he was in shock for a moment before it slowly melted and then he was sinking to the ground and pulling his daughter into his arms. He felt tears stinging his eyes and he fought to hold them in.

 

“I'm so glad you came back,” Murdock said, pulling back a little so she could look at Bucky.

 

“Me too, sweetheart,” Bucky said, reaching out to tuck some of her dark hair behind her ear.

 

Murdock looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, tilting her head. She reached out and put her little hand on his face and Bucky's smile got impossibly wider. 

 

“You look like me,” she observed, tapping next to his eyes and grabbing a lock of his dark hair. 

 

Bucky laughed. “I think technically you look like me,” he teased. 

 

He smelled the eggs in the pan starting to burn and he leapt to the stove, cursing under his breath. He grabbed them off the burner and Murdock giggled again. 

 

“Language,” she chided, continuing to giggle. She put her hands on her hips and gave him a raised eyebrow.

 

Bucky stared at her and for a moment she was the 3 foot female reincarnation of Steve. He couldn't help but laugh. 

 

“You're right, I need to watch my language,” he admitted, shaking his head. “Don't tell your mom, okay?”

 

Murdock nodded her head and came over to him by the stove. “I can keep a secret,” she said proudly. She grabbed a little stool and stepped up on it so she could reach a loaf of bread and began taking out slices.

 

“Papa and I keep secrets all the time,” she added as she deftly loaded the bread into the toaster and turned it on. 

 

Bucky smiled as he watched her. She was grabbing the butter dish and setting it on the breakfast bar. 

 

“Oh yeah? Is Papa what you call your dad?” He asked absently. 

 

*No, silly, he's Daddy. Papa is Papa,” Murdock explained, or at least she thought she did, leaving Bucky puzzled, but nodding. 

 

“So, what do you call me, then?” He asked as he was dividing the eggs onto three plates.

 

He set the plates down on the bar. Murdock laughed as he swooped her up and into one of the chairs. She grabbed her fork and tapped it thoughtfully on her chin.

 

“We just called you my dad, Bucky,” she said with a shrug.

 

“Guess we'll have to think of something,” Bucky said quietly as he watched her stab her eggs will shocking precision for a four year old.

 

He spotted a coffee maker near the fridge and darted over to get it started. “You want something to drink, Murdock? I'm assuming you don't like coffee,” he said, turning to look at her with a smirk.

 

“Oh, no, she loves coffee,” you answered him as you entered the kitchen, tying your hair back and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Another thing I can thank her Papa for,” you remarked with an eyeroll. “But how about some juice today, okay?” You stopped behind her chair and she tilted her head back to look at you. 

 

“Okay, Mommy,” she agreed. “I helped my dad make breakfast,” she said proudly.

 

“I can see that. That's great, little love,” you replied. You kissed her forehead and she went back to eating her eggs.

 

You walked around the bar to grab the toast that had popped up, buttering a piece and setting it on Murdock's plate. You turned back around and Bucky was handing you a cup of coffee. You smiled gratefully and accepted the mug. 

 

“Who's Papa?” He whispered while Murdock was distracted with her toast.

 

“Clint,” you whispered back with a smile. “Papa and Gamma. Her grandparents, as far as she knows.”

 

Bucky nodded, not sure how he felt about his daughter having Clint for a grandad, but keeping his opinions to himself. Your eyes darted to Murdock again for a second, but she was still happily eating her breakfast. You leaned in closer to Bucky, dropping your voice to where you knew only he could hear.

 

“She doesn't know about the baby. Nobody does except Clint,” you whispered. 

 

Bucky's eyes darted to his daughter before he leaned over to whisper back. “Did Steve know?”

 

You nodded. “Yes, but I don't want to tell everyone just yet. Is that okay?”

 

“Of course, love,” he said, instinctively going to wrap his arm around your waist, but he froze, realizing those tiny blue eyes were watching you both again. He cleared his throat and you looked back toward your daughter. 

 

“Where's Daddy? Is he still sleeping?” She asked, calm and innocent. 

 

Your breath caught in your throat and you felt a ringing in your ears. You weren't ready for this conversation. You probably never would be. But you knew the longer you put it off, the worse it would be. You tried to swallow but your throat felt dry and you couldn't get any words to form. 

 

“He's not here right now, sweetheart, sorry,” Bucky stepped in and replied. He was pouring her a cup of orange juice and walking over to hand it to her.

 

“Oh, okay,” Murdock replied, not seeming to think much of the response. “Thanks, Dad,” she said as she took the cup from his hand.

 

Bucky thought he felt his heart stop for a moment. “You're welcome, sweetheart,” he replied quietly, watching her grin up at him as she took a drink. 

 

You regained your composure and walked over to join them, taking Murdock's empty plate and putting it in the sink. “Murdock, is Auntie Kate awake?” You asked her as you sat down and forced yourself to eat something, trying to remain calm. 

 

“I don't know,” she replied with a shrug. “I can wake her up,” she declared, hopping down from her chair. She was at the door in a flash.

 

“Hey, make sure you tell Friday to tell Kate you're at the door and then wait for her to let you in, understood?” You called to your daughter as she was opening the door.

 

“Understood,” Murdock replied and then the door was closing.

 

“She can normally come and go from Kate's as she pleases, but I sent Peter to stay with her last night. I don't want to scar my four year old,” you told Bucky as he sat down next to you.

 

Bucky laughed. “Do you think something happened with the two of them”

 

“I don't know, but better safe than sorry,” you said with a weak smile. “Murdock will be occupied meeting Peter for the first time and I'm guessing she'll probably con her way into getting Kate to make her pancakes. Which means I probably have about half an hour to figure out how I'm gonna tell her Steve is gone,” you said, slumping forward with your head in your hands. 

 

Bucky turned to wrap his arms around your shoulders and pull you into his chest. 

 

“I'm so sorry, baby,” he tried to soothe you.

 

“We've always prepared her for the possibility that one or both of us might not come home someday,” you said as you picked your head up off his chest. “But that doesn't make this any easier.”

 

“I know, love,” he said, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “Do you want me to do it?” Bucky offered, feeling in no way prepared but knowing that was part of the territory now, as a parent, having to do things he was not entirely sure how to do. 

 

You smiled, grateful that he would be willing to do that, but shook your head. “Her first memory of you can't be you telling her that her dad is never coming back. That would make this transition so much harder.”

 

“What about Clint? He would probably do it if you asked,” Bucky suggested. 

 

You sighed. “No, it has to be me.”

 

You stood from the chair, straightening your spine and trying to prepare yourself. “I'm gonna get dressed and then I'll take her for a walk so it's quiet and just the two of us. You can either wait here or go up to the house with Clint and Laura,” you offered. 

 

“Friday, do you still have Sergeant Barnes’ biometrics stored?”

 

“Yes, miss,” the AI confirmed. 

 

“Can you add them to the residence and reactivate them across all systems, please?”

 

“Certainly, Agent Rogers.”

 

Bucky gave you a sad smile. “You took his name,” he commented quietly. 

 

You smiled back, a little apologetic. “Yeah, but I kept yours too, Buck. I promised I would,” you assured him. 

 

“Maybe you better go up to the house while we're gone,” you said on second thought. “She'll probably want to see Clint after I tell her. They're very close and I think she'll need him.”

 

Bucky nodded. “Alright,” he agreed, getting out of his chair.

 

You stopped him in front of the bedroom door, putting a hand on his chest. “Bucky, I don't know how this is going to go,” you cautioned. “She seems to have learned much more patience from Steve than you or I ever had, and she's very smart for her age, so there's a good chance she'll understand and just go through the grief like the rest of us. But if that doesn't happen, if she's angry and irrational about it, then you have to be prepared to give her space while she grieves. You might have to stay with Clint for a while.”

 

Bucky nodded his head. “I get it, babe. It's alright. We'll take it as it comes.”

 

***

 

Bucky was sitting on the porch, anxiously tapping his leg and nursing a cup of coffee. Clint sat across from him, watching him shift and clear his throat every few minutes. 

 

“Try to relax, man,” Clint finally said. “Giving yourself a panic attack isn't going to make this any easier.”

 

Bucky grit his teeth and fought the urge to tell Clint to stick his advice right up his ass. He knew he would have to reign things like that in now that he had a four year old watching and learning and he figured now was as good a time as any to start practicing.

 

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “What if she blames me? What if she hates me for coming back when Steve didn't?” He finally voiced the concerns that had been coursing through him for the last hour.

 

Clint sat forward, nodding his head. “I get it. Those are valid concerns. Frankly, either could happen,” Clint acknowledged. “But, did YN blame you for what happened to Steve?”

 

“No. I still can't figure out why, but she didn't,” he replied.

 

“And think about this; if she had jumped and Steve had been here when you came back, would he have blamed you?”

 

Bucky gave a humorless chuckle. “Steve didn't have the ability to blame anyone but himself for anything.”

 

“Right. And that's the guy that's been raising your daughter for the past four years; that same self sacrificing dumbass who dove off a cliff to bring you back to her,” Clint pointed out. “She's learned a lot from him. Including, if I had to guess, the ability to see that you're not the reason her dad is gone. Just have some faith.”

 

Bucky cracked a tiny smile. “Yeah, maybe you're right,” he conceded, but he gave Clint a warning look. “But don't let that go to your head. I still don't love the idea that my daughter thinks you're her grandpa.”

 

Clint rolled his eyes. “I miss Steve,” he grumbled, but there was amusement in his eyes. 

 

Before Bucky could respond, both men snapped their attention to you and Murdock as you approached the porch. They stood up and walked to the stairs to meet you. Murdock looked up, eyes locking on Clint and immediately rushed into his arms. Clint picked her up, holding her tight to his chest. Bucky's heart squeezed at the sight, wishing he could be the one offering her comfort. 

 

“Daddy's not coming home,” Murdock whispered into Clint's chest through tiny sobs.

 

“I know, squirt, I know,” Clint whispered back as he stroked her hair. 

 

Murdock turned her head and Bucky saw fat tears streaming down her pink cheeks and he thought his heart might shatter. He sucked in a breath, trying to stay calm and he felt you slip your hand into his. He turned to look at you, your face also tear stained.

 

Clint walked Murdock to the other end of the porch and sat down with her in the swing. He rocked her gently as he spoke to her, soft and calm, though they were out of earshot now. 

 

Bucky went back and slumped into the chair he had been in. You took a seat on the arm next to him, rubbing his shoulders. 

 

“Please tell me she doesn't hate me,” he said just above a whisper. 

 

“Remember who raised her, Bucky,” you said, trying to smile just a little. “She knows this wasn't your fault. If nothing else, she knows how much Steve loved you. She could never hate you.”

 

Bucky couldn't fight it anymore and a few tears managed to slip out. He kept watching Murdock and Clint across the porch and he reached out to grab your hand where it sat on his shoulder. Murdock sat up in Clint's lap and you saw him look over at you and Bucky and then back to her as he spoke. A moment later she was climbing out of the swing and coming toward you. 

 

Bucky watched her approach, trying and failing to stem the tears. Murdock came up to him, her own face still wet, and they watched each other for a heartbeat. Then she was climbing up to settle in his lap, tucking her face into his chest and wrapping her arms firmly around him.

 

Bucky choked on a sob, whether of grief or relief, he couldn't tell. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, kissing the crown of her head softly. You watched, feeling more tears coating your face as they held each other and cried. 

 

“I'm so sorry, sweetheart,” Bucky whispered. “I wish your daddy was here with you. I really do.”

 

“It's okay,” she whispered back.

 

You saw his eyes open, surprised at her response and you gave him a small smile. 

 

“You're my dad too and you're here now. I'm not alone,” she said firmly. 

 

You reached out and brushed her hair from her face. “You're not alone,” you repeated just as firmly.

 

“You'll never be alone, Murdock,” Bucky promised. “And I love you.”

Chapter 27: Closure

The next few weeks were a flurry of changes and tears, just as they had been all those years ago.

 

Sam showed up after he and Bruce had returned the Stones to their proper places in time. You and he and Bucky talked about Steve and laughed and cried together. He met your daughter and was instantly her favorite uncle, which was no surprise. Before he left, you gave him the shield, along with the note from Steve that he had left as a contingency, letting him know that he trusted him to carry it and the title it came with. Sam reluctantly accepted.

 

Since your home at the compound was a pile of rubble, you stayed at the farm for the time being. It was easier than you thought helping Murdock adapt to Bucky's place in your life and in hers. You and Steve really had done your best to instill him as a fixture for her and to help her understand what he had meant to you before he died, so she quickly understood that he held the same role as Steve once had. 

 

That's not to say it was completely smooth sailing. As it always would, this kind of change came with its challenges and speed bumps. A few weeks in, Murdock had her first nightmare about Steve and it was brutal.

 

You woke up from a sound sleep to your daughter screaming. Bucky dove out of bed before you even knew what was happening. He was out the door and kneeling by her bed before you could throw back the covers. The scene you saw when you entered the room broke your heart.

 

Bucky was trying to comfort Murdock as she cried, but she was shouting and pushing him away.

 

“No, I want my Daddy!” She screamed as she gave him a strong shove. 

 

Bucky sat back, looking like had taken a missile to the chest. You came to kneel beside him, gently angling him away from the bed, giving him a sympathetic look as you saw the shock on his face morph into hurt. 

 

“It's okay, Buck, I've got her,” you whispered. You climbed into bed next to Murdock, cradling her to your chest and offering soothing words. You watched Bucky slowly get up and leave the room. Your heart ached as you held your crying daughter and watched her broken hearted father retreat. 

 

Minutes ticked by and you finally managed to get her back to sleep. You left her room, softly closing the door behind you. You found Bucky sitting in the dark in the living room, hunched over himself with his head in his hands. You cautiously took a seat next to him, giving him the opportunity to ask you to leave if he wanted space. 

 

You sat together in silence as the minutes ticked on. You could hear Bucky quietly sniffling, trying to compose himself. 

 

“She probably won't even remember in the morning,” you finally said, trying to offer some comfort. 

 

“Maybe not, but I will,” he replied, just barely above a whisper. “Baby, how do I compete with that?” He asked. “All those years I wasn't here and there's nothing I can do to change it.”

 

He lifted his head to look at you and the heartache and defeat you saw knocked the wind out of you.

 

“I'll never be Steve,” he said with a shake in his voice.

 

You bit back the tears that wanted to form in your own eyes as you watched this man who had always been strong and sure of himself grapple with the shadow of his best friend. You swallowed and took a deep breath, determined to be stable while he was crumbling.

 

“You don't need to be Steve,” you said with all the conviction you could muster. “You need to be James Buchanan Barnes. You need to be her father. You need to be my husband. Because that is exactly what you are and we don't need you to be anyone or anything else.”

 

“She needs him, YN. She needs the man that was there when she took her first breath and tucked her into bed every night and held her when she was scared. I don't know how to be that man.”

 

“No, Bucky,” you countered. “What she needs is to grieve his loss. That's it. It's going to be a process. It won't always go smoothly.”

 

You sat back against the couch and tucked your legs under you. You put your hands on Bucky's head and gently encouraged him to lay in your lap. He slowly followed and laid down, pulling his legs up onto the couch. You gently stroked his hair, offering as much comfort as you could. 

 

“This won't be the last time she lashes out at you or at both of us when she's missing Steve,” you said softly. “I know because I did it. I lashed out at Steve many times when the pain of you being gone got too heavy to hold. Especially right after she was born. I said some terrible things to him,” you admitted.

 

You watched as Bucky slowly blinked and then turned his head to look at you. You smiled softly, continuing to run your fingers through his hair. 

 

“I'm sure Steve barely even flinched,” he said, trying to comfort you now. “He was a much more patient and forgiving person than I have ever been.”

 

“It doesn't matter, Buck,” you assured him. “You'll get through it too, just like he did. It'll get easier with time. You just have to hold on.”

 

He smiled back up at you, reaching up to stroke his thumb along your cheek. “God, I love you,” he breathed softly.

 

He turned his head a little further until his cheek was resting on your stomach and you watched him close his eyes and take slow even breaths. You thought he had almost drifted off, when his eyes flew open again and he went perfectly still. 

 

You mirrored him, pausing your hand in his hair. “Bucky, what is it?” You whispered.

 

“How far along are you?” He whispered back, pressing his ear more firmly to your lower stomach.

 

“Uh, ten weeks, I think? I haven't exactly had time to get an ultrasound,” you replied.

 

You watched as his lips slowly crept up into a smile. His eyes darted up to meet yours as he kept his head still. “I can hear the heartbeat,” he breathed, like he was afraid he might disturb the baby if he spoke any louder.

 

You smiled down at him and continued to stroke his hair. You were reminded of a night many years ago now, when you held Steve just like this and you felt both an overwhelming sense of sadness and joy at the same time.

 

Before long, Bucky was asleep and you soon followed. 

 

Not too long after, Bucky awoke, still in your lap, but having turned his back to the couch. You had since flopped over on top of him, your head rested against his hip. He went to move, not wanting either of you to wake up sore from sleeping like this, but he froze when he realized Murdock had climbed onto the couch and was now laying with her back tucked into his chest. He gently put an arm around her, pulling her tighter against him so she wouldn't fall. She hummed softly and snuggled into him.

 

“I love you, Dad,” she mumbled without opening her eyes.

 

Bucky stopped breathing, trying to keep himself calm as he felt relief flood his system.

 

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he assured her as he listened to both his children's heartbeats and fell back asleep.

 

***

 

Today was going to suck. There was absolutely no getting around it. Tomorrow was going to suck even more. But you would deal with that when it came.

 

Today was Tony's funeral.

 

And to make matters worse, today you would have to tell everyone you knew that you were pregnant with the child of another dead friend.

 

You were definitely showing. There was no hiding it anymore. You had managed to stay hidden away on the homestead and wear baggy sweatshirts when people visited. But no more.. Today, at a funeral, everyone was going to see.

 

And then tomorrow, you were going to have to stand there while another funeral was held, this one for the father of the child you were carrying.

 

You sat down on the bed, staring at the black dress. You didn't know if you could do this. You didn't want to make the next two days about you instead of the men you should be honoring for the sacrifices they made. You felt nauseous and dizzy and angry at yourself for waiting this long to say anything. 

 

Bucky walked into the bedroom holding Murdock and you looked up at him, feeling like you might burst into tears for what had to be the millionth time this week. Damn hormones. 

 

Bucky saw you sitting in your bathrobe, hair still wet and knew this was going to be harder than he thought. He set Murdock down and knelt beside her.

 

“Can you go check on Kate and Peter and make sure they're ready to go?” He asked her with a smile. 

 

Murdock nodded. “Sure, Dad,” she replied.

 

“Thanks, baby girl,” Bucky said, tapping her nose. 

 

She giggled and ran off and you heard the door open and shut. 

 

Bucky crossed the room and crouched in front of you. “Talk to me, doll. How can I help?”

 

“I don't think I can do this,” you said quietly. “I can't show up there. Everyone will see that I'm pregnant. I don't want to have to talk about it. Not today.”

 

Bucky watched your glassy, distant eyes as they struggled to focus. He reached up to grab your face and make you look at him. 

 

“You can do this, doll. You can get through it. It will mean so much to Pepper and Morgan to have you there. I know you'll regret it later if you don't go,” he softly encouraged. “We don't have to tell anyone or talk about the baby today.”

 

“They're gonna know, Buck. I can't hide this anymore,” you said, cradling your baby bump.

 

“Maybe, but we'll just tell them we're not talking about it now. This is our family. They'll respect that,” Bucky replied, running his thumbs over your cheeks being careful not to smudge your makeup.

 

He stood up and pulled you to your feet, slowly undoing your robe. You didn't help, but you didn't resist either, so he continued, pulling it off your shoulders and picking up your dress. He unzipped it and motioned for you to turn around, which you did. 

 

“Do you want me to go ahead of you and just let everyone know, get it over with, and make sure they know it's not open for discussion today?” He asked as he worked the dress over your head and zipped it.

 

You sighed as you felt him pull the clip out of your wet hair, turning to drop back on to the bed. “I guess, maybe? Do you think it will help?”

 

Bucky climbed onto the bed and kneeled behind you. His fingers worked their way through your wet hair as he quickly twisted the stands into a loose braid that cascaded over your left shoulder. 

 

“I think it's up to you and what you think will make you feel more comfortable,” he answered you. He got back off the bed and beckoned you over to look in the full length mirror by the closet. 

 

“I didn't think it's overly noticeable in that dress,” he said as you both looked at your reflection.

 

You shifted and bent, moving to see if you agreed with him. “I guess it's not,” you agreed. “Maybe if I move a certain way, but not really.”

 

Bucky watched your posture relax and he silently sent up a prayer of thanks to whatever deity was watching. 

 

“Sorry, clearly I was overreacting,” you apologized, turning to give him a shy smile. “Pregnancy hormones are a bitch.”

 

He smiled back and kissed you. “Don't worry about it, love,” he insisted. “We just gotta get through the next two days. I'm sure everything will be easier after this is over.”

 

“We can tell everyone after tomorrow,” you said, grabbing your shoes and a coat. “We just have to sit down and figure out how to tell Murdock first.”

 

You sat down at the breakfast bar, but before you could bend down to put on your shoes, Bucky was doing it for you. You smiled at him.

 

“I told you I'll always get on my knees for you, baby,” he said with a wink and his devilish smirk.

 

You groaned, feeling a jolt of arousal hit your core. “That's not fair, Barnes,” you whined.

 

“Just giving you something to look forward to later, doll,” he said as he stood up and leaned over you, pulling you in for a slow kiss.

 

***

 

You survived the funeral. Everyone was there. Everyone was silent and reverent as you watched the tribute to Tony float quietly away from shore. Slowly, the crowd broke and quiet conversations could be heard as people shared stories and sentiments. As the night wore on, the quiet conversations grew into laughter and tears as everyone remembered Tony and all the love and life he had brought to every person present. 

 

You looked over and saw Clint and Wanda talking by the water's edge and your heart broke for her all over again. You thought about the pain Wanda was carrying and you knew tomorrow you would have to face all that same pain yourself. You closed your eyes to try to control the flood of emotions and took some deep breaths.

 

A hand on your shoulder brought you back to the present. You turned around to see Yelena watching you closely, her brows deeply furrowed. You straightened and tried to smile, but she wasn't having it.

 

She shook her head and waved her hand. “Don't do that, don't pretend you are okay, you are not okay,” she said as she pulled you in for a bone crushing hug. 

 

You stopped thinking for a moment and let her hold you tight, letting yourself sink into the offer of comfort and you knew you were crying again.

 

“Milaya moya, you are holding so much pain,” she said as she held you tight and let you cry. “I am so sorry.”

 

She held you for a moment longer before you were vaguely aware that she stiffened and drew back just slightly, giving you a little more room.

 

“Come, come, we will sit,” she said quietly and then she was taking your hand and leading you to a seat on the porch.

 

You were too distracted to notice the way she was shielding you and moving you away so no one would notice. You didn't notice when she and Bucky locked eyes as she led you away from the crowd. She guided you to sit and sat beside you, keeping your hands to try and keep you grounded.

 

“Milaya…” she said quietly and you looked at her. Never one for preambles, she got right to the point. “Did he know you were pregnant when he died?”

 

You nodded. “I told him just before. I thought it might change his mind,” you admitted, gnawing on your lip to try and control the tears.

 

“And James, he knows too?” Yelena asked. 

 

“Yes, I know,” Bucky answered, coming up to stand protectively over you. You watched him clenching and unclenching his metal hand, trying to stay calm. “Now, please, let my wife be, Yelena. She has enough to deal with.”

 

Yelena rolled her eyes. “Oy, Bojey moy,” she muttered, turning her body to face Bucky. “Yes, James, I know this. This is why I took her away from the people. She is not okay,” Yelena defended.

 

“Yelena,” Bucky said, his tone showing his patience was wearing out. “I don't think being here, with you, is going to help.”

 

Yelena’s face shifted as it dawned on her that Bucky had no idea your relationship had changed when Natasha died. She sat back, relaxing a little and smiled at him.

 

“Oh, I see what is happening,” Yelena said. “We are friends now, dorogoy moy, there is no need to worry.”

 

Bucky gave her a very skeptical look and shifted his eyes to you. 

 

“She's right, Buck, it's okay,” you assured him. “She saw I wasn't doing well and she got me out of the crowd, it's alright.”

 

Bucky sighed and sat down in the chair across from you, looking rather exhausted. “Alright, then, Yelena, I apologize. And thank you.”

 

Yelena gave him a brief nod and tight smile before returning her attention to you. “So, Steve knew before he died. And you are having a hard time with the fact that he will not be here for the baby, yes?”

 

You nodded. “Among other things.”

 

“James is here. Will he be here for this baby?” She asked. 

 

Bucky sat forward. “Of course I-”

 

“James, no, not you. I was asking YN. Please, keep quiet,” Yelena cut him off. 

 

Your eyes darted between them for a moment, wondering if they might come to blows like they used to, but Bucky quickly backed down under her unrelenting stare. He threw his hands up, sitting back hard against the chair and clenching his jaw.

 

“I know James was going to say he will be here,” Yelena continued. 

 

“I will be here,” Bucky muttered, his tone almost a little helpless, like he was trying to convince you both. 

 

Yelena just held up a finger and refused to look at him. “But, you tell me; will he be here for this baby?”

 

You gave Bucky a sympathetic look. “Yes, he will. I know he will, Yelena, don't worry.”

 

Bucky looked a little relieved and he relaxed his jaw. 

 

Yelena nodded. “Alright. James will be here for the baby. The same as Steve was here for Malishka,” Yelena pointed out. “So that is not what is on your mind.”

 

She watched you closely as you continued to gnaw your lip, waiting for you to find your words. 

 

“I can't stop thinking, what if I had told him sooner, would it have made a difference?” You asked rhetorically. “Would it have changed anything? Maybe if I had then… then he wouldn't have… maybe he would still…” You couldn't find your words as your dark thoughts flooded your consciousness.

 

Yelena squeezed your hands and waited for you to look at her. “You keep asking yourself if it is your fault that he is gone.” She voiced the fear that had been lurking just below the surface for weeks.

 

You couldn't speak. You just nodded your head, knowing she was right. 

 

You glanced at Bucky and you could see his face go slack as he realized the guilt you had been carrying. He felt immediately guilty, himself, for not seeing it sooner. 

 

“Baby, I'm sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn't realize. I shoulda known you’d be feeling this way.” You saw him kicking himself internally for not being there for you. 

 

“Bucky, stop,” you said. “Don't put that on yourself. You came back to a completely different world and you've been trying to catch up. You suddenly had a daughter to look after, a daughter who just lost her dad. You only have so much bandwidth. This isn't on you. I could have shared what I was feeling and I didn't.”

 

“She's right, James, you cannot blame yourself,” Yelena added. “That does not matter. What matters is how we can help her now.”

 

Yelena turned back to look at you. “Milaya, listen to me; what happened was not your fault. You are not responsible for the choice Steve made. I know this, because I felt the same way when my sister died. I could not stop thinking that if I had been there, I could have saved her. But that is not true. They both made their choices and we can only live with them.”

 

“Steve was the most self sacrificing human that's ever lived, doll,” Bucky added with a weak smile. “He would have made that choice over and over, no matter the circumstances. There's nothing you could have said or done that would have changed a damn thing.”

 

“I did not know him well, but I know James is right. And I know he would not want you to be putting this burden on yourself. He would want you to move on, to raise your child and to be happy,” Yelena said firmly. 

 

You saw Bucky looking at Yelena, his eyes pleading and Yelena relented, standing to give her seat to Bucky. Bucky sat down and gathered you into his arms, desperately holding you against his chest. You felt him let out a slow breath and you knew he was fighting to stay calm. 

 

“We're going to be okay, baby, but you gotta let go of this feeling. Steve would be saying the same thing and you know it,” he urged you.

 

You sat up and took a deep steadying breath and you knew you felt lighter, your mind felt quieter. You gave them each a small smile. 

 

“You're right. You both are,” you said, making sure to look them each in the eye so they knew you meant it. “I'll be okay.”

 

“Good, now, James, move, I want to talk to the little one,” Yelena said as she shoved Bucky out of the way.

 

Bucky shook his head, but got out of her way, knowing any resistance would lead only to argument. Yelena plopped back down and put her hands on your belly, smiling ear to ear.

 

“Privet, Lenochka, kak dela?” Yelena spoke to your little baby bump and you laughed. 

 

You heard Bucky groan and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “We are not naming our baby after you, Yelena.”

 

You laughed. “We don't even know if it's a boy or girl yet.”

 

“Don't listen to him, your dad is just very grumpy,” Yelena was still cooing at your belly. “He can't help it, but don't worry, he loves you.”

 

You watched with a chuckle as Bucky considered saying something, but ultimately gave up and just slumped back in the chair again. You and Yelena both laughed. 

 

“We should probably go soon, Bucky,” you said. “Tomorrow's gonna be hard for Murdock.”

 

Yelena sat up and gave you a sad smile. “Tomorrow will be hard for all of you but it will also give you some closure. Hopefully that will make it easier to heal.”

 

You gave her a heartfelt smile and wrapped her in another warm hug. “Thank you, my friend.”

 

“Of course, milaya moya,” she returned. 

 

You both stood and so did Bucky, watching you and looking still just a little stunned. 

 

“I bet you never thought you would see us like this, right, James?” Yelena said with a laugh. 

 

Bucky just shook his head, not sure if he should even respond. 

 

“We'll see you tomorrow?” You asked her as you all left the porch. 

 

“Actually, I'm going to ride back with you and stay at Kate's tonight,” Yelena explained as you made your way to what was left of the crowd of people, trying to find Clint and Laura.

 

“Oh, Kate has Peter staying with her right now,” you said, waving to Clint to get his attention. You signed that you were ready to head home and he replied that he would gather the family.

 

You turned back to Yelena. “You're welcome to stay with us, if you want, since our couch pulls out and Kate's doesn't.”

 

“No, I won't sleep on the couch, she has the spare room,” Yelena said, looking at you confused. 

 

“Yeah, I know, but Peter is…” you didn't finish your sentence, as you stated to realize what Yelena was saying.

 

“Oh dear…” Yelena said, biting her cheek. “I did not realize they did not tell you. I shouldn't have said anything.”

 

Bucky laughed and you both looked at him. “No, for once, Lena, this isn't on you.”

 

“He's right, this isn't on you. This is on my nephew,” you agreed. “My nephew who is never going to hear the end of it,” you said with a laugh of your own. 

 

***

 

Unfortunately, the next day was just as difficult as you expected. There was nothing to bury, so you simply laid a headstone for Steve next to Natasha’s. Sam, Bucky, and Clint all said a few words. There were flowers laid and stories shared and plenty of food. The Barton home was filled with your family, the laughter of people who knew and loved Steve, the sounds of children he thought of as nieces and nephews, and the chorus of Asgardian liquor fueled laments for fallen warriors.

 

Before the night was through, Murdock had a meltdown, still not understanding why everyone else got to come back but her daddy didn't. You did your best to help guide her through, wishing Tony was around to explain the physics of the space-time continuum and multiversal balance in layman's terms. But there was no consoling her. You know that's just how it would be until she was old enough to truly understand. 

 

Bucky did much better this time, which you were glad for, seeming to realize her grief for Steve was not a reflection on her love for him. 

 

You were just about to give up and let her cry herself out when, unexpectedly, Wanda stepped in. You watched, in awe, as she gently told your daughter about how the person she loved wasn't coming back either and how the choice they made saved the lives of everyone they loved and we had to honor them for it. She and Murdock talked for a long time until Murdock finally fell asleep in her arms. 

 

Bucky took her and carried her off to put her in bed. You took her place on the porch swing beside Wanda. You and Wanda held each other and sobbed, knowing there was nothing either one of you could say to truly bring comfort to the other for the loss they were carrying.

 

Eventually you and Wanda must have also fallen asleep, overwhelmed with exhaustion, because the next thing you knew Bucky was gently waking you. 

 

“Come on, doll, you can't sleep here all night it's too cold,” he whispered. 

 

You nodded and sat up, turning to look at Wanda. 

 

“Laura made the couch up for her. I'll bring her inside, don't worry,” Bucky assured you. 

 

You nodded again and Bucky reached over to scoop Wanda into his arms. You followed him to open the door and then helped him get her situated before you both headed back to the barn.

 

You peeked your head in on Murdock and she was fast asleep, for which you were very grateful. With heavy feet, you trudged to your bed, intending to crawl in without bothering to change. Bucky caught your waist and sat you on the bed. 

 

“You won't be comfortable sleeping like that, doll,” Bucky whispered. 

 

He pulled your dress over your head, keeping you upright as you swayed with exhaustion. He pulled a T-shirt over your head and helped get you under the covers. You snuggled into the pillow and let out a heavy sigh. Bucky was climbing in right behind you, hooking his arm around your waist to pull you against his chest. 

 

“I'm glad today is over,” you whispered. “I just want to try and move on.”

 

“I know, baby. Me too,” Bucky echoed. “Tomorrow we can start fresh. We'll tell Murdock about the baby and then we can go from there. Okay?”

 

But you were already asleep. Bucky kissed your cheek and drifted off beside you. 

 

***

 

“Am I gonna have a brother or a sister?” Murdock asked excitedly. 

 

She was standing in front of you as you and Bucky sat on the couch. She put her tiny hands on your belly and giggled. 

 

“We don't know yet, baby girl,” you answered her question. “We still have a few weeks before we can find out.”

 

She looked thoughtful for a moment as she continued to cradle your belly. “I think it's gonna be a boy. I want a brother,” she stated, as if she could will it into existence. 

 

You and Bucky both chuckled. Murdock climbed up to sit in Bucky's lap and turned to look at him. 

 

“Are you my brother's dad too or is his daddy Steve?” Murdock asked Bucky. 

 

You watched Bucky rub nervously at the back of his neck, unsure how to answer. He wasn't sure if she meant in the strictly biological sense or if she even understood the difference. You saw him struggling and stepped in.

 

“Steve is the baby's dad, Murdock,” you told her. “But Bucky will be his daddy. Just like Bucky is your dad and Steve was your daddy.”

 

Murdock nodded. Bucky smiled at her. 

 

“The important thing to remember is that I love you both; you and the baby,” Bucky assured her. “And I'll be here for both of you, no matter what.”

 

Murdock nodded again and Bucky kissed her cheek, making her giggle. “Your whiskers tickle, Dad,” she laughed. 

 

He chuckled. “Yeah, your mom tells me that all the time.”

 

Murdock jumped down and took the ultrasound picture from your hand. “Can I go tell Peter?” She asked, practically shaking with excitement. “And Papa?”

 

Bucky looked at you and you shrugged, laughing. 

 

“Sure, sweetheart,” Bucky said. “Go tell everybody.”

Chapter 28: Junior

“And… congratulations, it's a boy!” The enthusiastic young man announced as he froze the ultrasound image and offered you and Bucky a beaming smile.

 

You and Bucky looked at each other for a moment and you both burst out laughing.

 

You glanced at the technician and his smile stayed, but he looked confused, possibly a little concerned. You gave him a smile as your laughter died down.

 

“Murdock was right. She'll be so excited,” Bucky said as he squeezed your hand.

 

The technician handed you print outs, wished you a good day, and left. You hopped down and fixed your jeans, slipping your shoes back on. Bucky held out your jacket and you smiled and let him slip it on your shoulders. 

 

“Are you happy, babe?” Bucky asked as you drove back to the farm. 

 

You looked up at him and smiled. “Yeah, of course,” you assured him. “I mean, I didn't really care either way, but I'm glad it's a boy. Now there's no chance we get caught in that weird infinite loop of continuing to have children until you get one of each gender,” you said with a laugh. 

 

He glanced at you, eyebrow raised. “That's a thing?”

 

“Yeah, it's a thing. I don't understand it, but it's a thing,” you said. 

 

Bucky just shrugged. “Okay, then I guess the next question is what do we name him?”

 

You sighed, memories coming back from having gone down this road before. “Yeah, I suppose we need to start brainstorming.”

 

“We could name him after his dad,” Bucky suggested. 

 

You couldn't help but laugh. And Bucky turned to you grinning. 

 

“What?” He asked. 

 

You shook your head. “Nothing,” you said, still laughing. “It's just that's the first thing Steve suggested too, when I was pregnant with Murdock. What is it with you old guys and your need to name your sons after yourselves?”

 

Bucky laughed and rolled his eyes. “I didn't suggest naming him after me,” he pointed out. “Steve wanted to name our daughter after me?”

 

“Well, it was before we knew she was a girl. We were throwing out options for anything at the time,” you explained. “But, yes, his first suggestion was James.”

 

Bucky smiled to himself a little. “Should we let Murdock help us pick?”

 

“Oh, she already threw in her suggestion; she wants to name him after Clint,” you said with a wry smile, already knowing what he would say.

 

“I am not naming my son after Barton,” Bucky said, definitively. 

 

You suppressed a laugh. “Then it's a good thing we pivoted with Murdock. She was very nearly Clint Jr,” you teased with a smirk. 

 

Bucky huffed and shook his head. There was a quiet moment and then he tilted his head, a thoughtful look on his face. 

 

“Where did Murdock's name come from?” He asked, giving you a curious glance. “Did you just get it out of a book or was it a relative or something?”

 

Your eyes went wide. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew you should have been prepared for this question at some point. But you weren't.

 

You took a breath.

 

“That's kind of a long story,” you finally said. 

 

Bucky was shutting off the engine and he turned to give you a confused look. “Alright… do you want to tell me about it?” He suggested. 

 

You closed your eyes. This was not going to be a fun conversation. 

 

***

 

“Buck, please, just calm down and talk to me,” you begged as you followed him into the apartment. 

 

He stormed away into the living room and you took a steadying breath before you followed him. He was pacing, hands running angrily through his hair.

 

You sat down on the couch, watching him and feeling your pulse quicken with every step he took.

 

“Bucky,” you said again, and you could hear the slight shake in your voice.

 

He stopped, whipping his head around to face you. There was rage and hurt in his eyes and it felt like a stab to your gut. 

 

“What?!” He bellowed. “Did you have some other huge confessions you needed to make?”

 

“I'm sorry. It wasn't something I ever talked about. I would have told you about it eventually, but you were-”

 

“Gone! Yeah, I know; I was gone!” He cut you off, shouting. “So instead you told Steve, and you gave Steve's name to my daughter, and you fucked Steve! Tell me this- is she even my daughter, or is she Steve's too?!”

 

He was glaring at you, chest heaving with weeks of bottled up frustration that he didn't even know he had been holding. 

 

You just stared at him in shock. You'd seen him angry. You'd seen him hurt. But he rarely unleashed it on you like this. This felt deeper. It made you feel sick. 

 

“Bucky, how can you even ask me that?” You whispered as you clutched your arms around your chest, fighting the tears you could feel pricking the backs of your eyes.

 

“I don't know, YN, maybe I don't know you like I thought I did,” he challenged, eyes still boring into you with anger. 

 

That felt like a slap in the face and the tears spilled over. You tried to reply but no words would come out. 

 

He gave you one last scathing look and turned on his heels, storming back to the door. 

 

“I need some air,” he declared, and he slammed the door behind him. 

 

***

 

“Just breathe, Kes,” Clint said as he handed you a cup of tea. “I'm sure he just needs some space. It'll be alright.”

 

“You didn't see the look in his eyes,” you countered, sipping at your tea. “You didn't hear the way he… Clint, he's never talked to me like that before.”

 

Clint rubbed your shoulders, trying to get you to calm down.

 

“He can be a hothead. You know that,” Clint gently reminded you. “He'll cool down and realize he fucked up. Just relax.”

 

“He asked me if Murdock was Steve's,” you said quietly, running your fingers nervously over your mug. “How could he think I would do that to him?”

 

Clint sat down next to you, putting his arm around your shoulders with a sigh.

 

“He doesn't think that, kid. He was just angry. He didn't mean it.”

 

“I think I broke his heart, Hawk,” you voiced the fear that was sitting in your chest. “I fell in love with his best friend and no matter how much he wants to be okay with it, I think it's killing him.”

 

“Kes, I think you're in a unique situation and you have been since that Snap upended our lives five years ago,” Clint said. “I think he just has to work through it all and that takes time.”

 

You nodded, knowing that was a reasonable explanation. But you still felt scared. “I don't remember us fighting like this before,” you said absently.

 

Clint laughed. “You guys got under each other's skin all the time. It was just before you started sleeping together. This isn't new, it's just harder now.”

 

“I don't get why he wouldn't just stay and talk to me,” you said, frustrated. 

 

Clint laughed again and he squeezed your shoulders, rubbing your arm. “Kid, I hate to say it, but you got used to how things were with Steve,” Clint said, still chuckling. “He was the embodiment of patience and forgiveness. He didn't get angry. Bucky shoots first and asks questions later. You knew that once. You just have to remember and not expect the Winter Soldier to solve problems the same way as Captain America.”

 

“That's good advice, Hawk,” you mumbled. “Did you learn that from Steve?”

 

“Hey! Sometimes I have good advice all on my own,” Clint protested.

 

You laughed quietly and nursed your tea.

 

“It's getting late. What if he doesn't come home tonight?” You said, nervously biting your cheek. 

 

“I wouldn't worry,” Clint said, gently nudging your arm.

 

You followed his eyeline to the front door. You could see Bucky standing on the porch, eyes watching you through the glass, hands shoved stiffly in his pockets.

 

You swallowed and gave him a shaky smile, feeling your heart skip a little, just glad he came back. Clint stood and helped you off the couch. 

 

“It's gonna be okay, Kes,” he assured you before kissing your head and heading towards the stairs; not before making sure to shoot Bucky a deadly glare on his way. 

 

You made your way to the door and stepped out on the porch, eyeing Bucky carefully. 

 

“Hey,” he said, a nervous half grin on his face. 

 

“Hey,” you replied, tugging your sweater tightly around yourself. 

 

Bucky pressed his hands harder against his pockets and shifted his weight. “Is, uh, is he gonna put an arrow in me as soon as I turn my back?” He asked, gesturing in the direction Clint had disappeared. 

 

You gave him a nervous smile back. “Maybe.”

 

“Yeah, well, I guess I deserve it,” Bucky muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

 

You looked at each other for a heartbeat and then he gathered you into his arms and held you tight, like he was afraid you might push him away.

 

“I'm so sorry, doll,” he muttered against your hair.

 

“I'm sorry too,” you whispered back. You buried your face in his chest and let his scent calm you. 

 

“I went to the apartment, but you and Murdock weren't there.”

 

“Yelena came to get Murdock a few hours ago. She's spending the weekend with her in DC, remember?”

 

“Shit, I forgot,” Bucky cursed. “I didn't get to say goodbye. What did you tell her?”

 

“That you were running errands, but you would be here when she got home,” you said, lifting your head to look at him.

 

Bucky saw the heartache in your eyes and heard the hesitancy in your voice.

 

“And you've been sitting here wondering if you lied to her,” Bucky voiced the unspoken worry.

 

“I'm not leaving you, YN. I told you that. You have to trust me,” Bucky pleaded.

 

You swallowed and closed your eyes for a moment.

 

“Bucky, you accused me of cheating on you. I didn't know what to think,” you said honestly, making sure your tone was calm and not accusatory, not interested in starting another fight. But you couldn't just let this all go and wait for it to surface again later. 

 

“I know, baby, Jesus, I'm sorry,” Bucky apologized again. “I don't know where that came from. I know you didn't- wouldn't- do that.”

 

“You know Murdock is your daughter. You have to know that's the truth.”

 

“I know, YN. I know she is. Like I said, I don't know what made me say that.”

 

You chewed at your lip for a moment. “I think you haven't stopped to deal with the fact that I fell in love with Steve and it's eating at you.”

 

Bucky looked down at you, his expression calm but a little detached. You knew he was grappling with how to respond and trying to keep his temper in check this time. You gently pulled out of his grip and took his hand, leading him over to sit with you on the porch swing.

 

You kept his hand in yours and gave him a minute to breathe before continuing.

 

“It's okay for you to be hurt, Buck. It's normal. I would probably be feeling the same way if the roles were reversed,” you assured him calmly. 

 

Bucky picked his head up and gave you a cocky smirk. “You mean if you had dusted and I had married Steve while you were gone, you'd be jealous?”

 

You let out a genuine laugh. “Yes, Barnes, I would be jealous. Not surprised, mind you, but, still, jealous.”

 

Bucky just shook his head and quietly chuckled. Slowly his face fell and was serious again. “You're right, doll,” he admitted. “I don't think I realized it until you were telling me today and it hit me that he shared a part of you that I didn't have; it hurt and I wasn't ready for it.”

 

You offered a sympathetic smile. “There's no right or wrong way to feel about what we're going through. I can't blame you for being hurt or how it affects you,” you said as you ran your fingers soothingly across his knuckles. 

 

“I appreciate that, doll,” he said with a warm smile. “But you're hurting too and I can't just shout and storm out on you when we're struggling. You don't have to let me off the hook for that.”

 

You chuckled. “As much as I wish I could agree with that, I can't ask you to be anyone other than who you are. I fell in love with you; six feet of brooding, icy glares, and short fuses. I knew what I was getting into.”

 

Bucky gave you that lopsided smile that never failed to tow you under. “Still, I can do better.”

 

He let go of your hand and gently held your jaw. He slowly pulled your face closer to his, stopping just shy of your lips meeting.

 

“Let me make it up to you, doll,” he breathed against your lips before pressing his against them.

 

He kissed you slow and reverent, drinking you in. His hand on your jaw moved up to grip the back of your head, tilting it so he could deepen the kiss. He slid his tongue across yours and you couldn't help but softly moan. His other hand slid around your waist, trying to pull you closer to him, but you both realized your belly was getting in the way. He broke the kiss and you both smiled.

 

“Buck?” You said quietly.

 

“Yeah, baby,” he replied, tucking your hair behind your ear. 

 

“We gotta get off Clint and Laura's porch.”

 

Bucky grinned, standing and before you could move, he lifted you into his arms. “Yes, ma'am.”

 

You softly laid kisses against his neck as he carried you back to the barn. You reached the conjunction of his shoulder and you kissed him once more before sinking your teeth into his skin and he growled.

 

“That's not fair, baby,” he said through gritted teeth, quietly groaning as you went back to kissing his neck. 

 

Finally you were in your apartment and Bucky kicked the door closed behind you. He tilted his head down and captured your lips, this time kissing hard and desperately, stealing your air.

 

He was setting you down on the bed, lips never leaving yours, as his hands sought the hem of your sweater. He slipped them underneath and began pushing the fabric upward, trailing his fingers over your skin as he went. 

 

You shuddered at the contact, arching up into his touch and sat up so he could discard the sweater. He grinned at you as your hands slipped under his shirt, tracing across his torso, feeling the muscles flex and jump at your touch. He unzipped his jacket and shrugged it off and you pulled his shirt over his head. Your hands ran up his chest and over his shoulders, making him sigh and he reached back and unclasped your bra, pushing it over your shoulders and onto the floor.

 

You pressed kisses to his chest, slowly climbing until your lips and tongue were tracing the seam that ran over his left shoulder. You nipped at his skin and he groaned, running his hands up your spine.

 

You grinned and pulled back to look at his face. His eyes were all but swallowed by black, hooded and lust blown. You snaked your arms behind him and ran your nails over his back as he pulled you in for another heated kiss. His lips left yours and traveled along your jaw, down your neck and across your collarbone, leaving marks as he went and pulling moans from you. 

 

His hands slid back around to cup your breasts and he moaned at the feel of them in his hands, brushing his thumbs over your nipples and making you arch into him, crying his name. 

 

“I won't complain about what pregnancy does to your tits, baby, that's for sure,” he rasped, gently squeezing them in his hands.

 

You moaned, digging your nails into his back as he dipped his head and ran his tongue over your nipples, swirling and sucking and nipping gently. You squirmed under his touch, feeling yourself dangerously close to coming just from the attention your breasts were receiving, moans and quiet cries of his name continuing to fall from your lips.

 

You felt him grin where his mouth was around your nipple and he let go, lifting his head to look at you again. His hands continued to knead your breasts, fingers rolling your nipples and you were practically shaking. 

 

Bucky grinned wickedly, staring down at your parted lips and flushed skin. 

 

“God, you're fucking beautiful, doll,” he breathed, watching your face as you clung to him. “Can I make you come like this, baby?”

 

He emphasized his question with a hard tweak to your nipples and you shrieked, legs shaking as you teetered on the edge.

 

“I don't know, maybe,” you tried to answer him, but your breath was catching as you felt him pushing you closer.

 

“Fuck, I can, can't I,” he breathed as he continued his ministrations, determined to bring you to orgasm just like this.

 

You were panting, clawing at his back, whining his name and he dipped his head again to latch onto a nipple once more. With a hard suck and one last pinch with his fingers, you cried out, reaching your peak as he buried his face in your chest, leaving kisses across both breasts. His hands moved to hold your waist, keeping you steady as you came back down and your breathing slowed.

 

“That was so hot, doll,” Bucky praised, his hands tracing over your sides as he laid soft kisses over your face. “I can't believe I've never made you do it before.”

 

“I'm pretty sure it's just because I'm pregnant,” you said, your hands drifting down to start unbuckling his belt. “I wouldn't get your hopes up about it, long term.”

 

Bucky gave a dark chuckle as he hooked his hands into the waistband of your pants. “Between that and your tits being huge, maybe that's a good reason to keep you knocked up,” he teased.

 

“That's not funny, Barnes,” you scolded as you pushed his pants and briefs down his hips and they dropped to the ground. 

 

Bucky chuckled again as he walked you back a little until you fell back on the bed. Once you were laying down he pulled your pants and underwear off and tossed them away.

 

“We'll already have two; what's a few more?” He continued to tease as he leaned over you.

 

He bent his head to softly kiss over your belly and you giggled as the feel of his stubble on your skin. He lifted his head back up and smiled.

 

“No way,” you said, adamantly. “If you want more kids, you can grow them and push them out of your crotch yourself. I'm not not going through that again. Little Steven Jr here is the end,” you said, patting your belly.

 

Bucky laughed. “Oh, so now we are going to name him after Steve?”

 

You quirked your eyebrow and gave him an unimpressed look. “ We can go back to arguing about baby names or we can have sex. Your choice.”

 

Bucky licked his lips. “Sex,” he stated with a grin. 

 

You grinned back as you sat up far enough to roll over and get on your hands and knees. Bucky's hands immediately grabbed your hips and he pressed his tip to your entrance. You looked back over your shoulder and bit your lip and you heard a growl deep in Bucky's chest. 

 

“Fuck me, Soldier,” you pleaded, breathy and low.

 

Bucky groaned and slid into you, moaning as he bottomed out. He set a slow, steady rhythm, rolling his hips and pulling every sound he could out of you. You leaned down, pressing your face to the mattress as he thrust into you, your legs feeling shaky and breathing stuttered. 

 

“Baby, you feel so good, fuck, I can't last much longer,” he bit out through ragged breaths, hips started to move in uneven thrusts. 

 

“Come, babe. I'm right behind you,” you replied. 

 

A few more thrusts and he was coming, crying out your name as he filled you. His release triggered yours and you moaned his name as your walls squeezed his cock.

 

He pulled out as you both tried to steady your breathing and you collapsed on your side. He crawled onto the bed to lay beside you, reaching out to brush hair from your face and stroke your cheek. You put your hand on his arm, gently stroking his skin. 

 

Bucky bit his lip and gave you a shy grin. “Now can we talk about what we're gonna name our son?”

Chapter 29: The Shield

“You have far more opinions about this than Steve did,” you groaned, crossing off another potential name from the list.

 

“Steve probably had plenty of opinions, he just kept them to himself more than I do,” Bucky countered. 

 

You looked down at the page, a mess of scribbles in both yours and Bucky's handwriting.

 

“At this rate, he'll be a year old before we agree on something,” you complained, throwing your head back against Bucky's shoulder, which you immediately regretted when you smacked it against metal. 

 

“Ah, damnit,” you cursed, rubbing the back of your head. 

 

He tried not to, but Bucky laughed quietly. You turned and glared at him.

 

“I'm sorry, baby,” he apologized, sitting up to kiss your head. “We'll figure it out,” he assured you. 

 

“We only have a month to go. And I swear to God, Barnes, if you keep finding reasons to veto all the options, I'm naming him after Clint just to spite you,” you threatened.

 

“If you do that, I'm calling him Bucky Jr just to spite you back,” Bucky countered. 

 

Before you could respond, you heard his phone ringing. Bucky pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the screen. You saw his jaw tick and he rejected the call, tossing it on the coffee table. You watched him go back to reading his book, but the stiffness in his posture and crease in his forehead was noticeable. 

 

“You can't just ignore him forever,” you said softly, placing a hand on his leg. 

 

“I can't talk to him. I'll say things I can't take back. I'm still too angry,” Bucky said with a sigh, setting his book down. 

 

“Sam didn't do it to hurt you, Bucky,” you tried to reason. “He's grieving Steve's loss and trying to figure out how to cope with the weight he was given, just like you are. Don't let this drive a wedge between you. That's certainly not what Steve would have wanted.”

 

Bucky ran his hand through his hair, eyes unfocused as he battled his own conflicting feelings. “I know, but he gave up the shield, YN. I don't know…” his words died as he saw you staring at your phone, eyes widening by the second as shock overtook your features.

 

His eyes dropped to the screen as you flipped it sideways and turned up the volume so you could both see. You watched the video playing and you could practically hear Bucky's teeth cracking as he clenched his jaw. 

 

 

“... Did you know Steve Rogers?”

 

“I was two years out of West Point when Steve came back on the scene. I followed his career very closely as an Avenger. I like to think that I modeled my work after his.”

 

“You've always wanted to be a hero?”

 

“I liked that what I was doing would make people feel safe. Steve Rogers was the kind of guy who could do that, he gave me hope. Even though I never met him, he feels like a brother.”

 

 

Neither you nor Bucky said a word. You could practically feel the rage rolling off of him in waves. You felt sick and your ears were ringing. You couldn't begin to sort through the tumult of emotions that were rising in your chest as you processed what you had just seen. 

 

Bucky was up and pacing. You heard the soft whirs and clicks of his vibranium arm as he flexed and clenched his fist. He stopped and ran both through his hands through his hair. His control gave out. 

 

“He should never have given up the shield!” Bucky shouted. He picked up the nearest object- the TV remote- and chucked it against the wall where it splintered into oblivion and left a crater.

 

You reflexively ducked and moved to the otherside of the room, even though it wasn't really near you, years of training taking over. That seemed to bring Bucky back and he relaxed his posture, moving to hold your shoulders.

 

You looked into his eyes and you knew what he wanted to say, what his instincts were telling him to do. 

 

“I gotta go talk to Sam. This isn't right. I'm sorry, love, I know it's bad timing, but-” Bucky stopped when you put your hand up. 

 

“I know, Buck. It's alright. Just go,” you said, every bit as determined as he was. “You just have to promise me that you and Sam will work this out. If you bring him back in a body bag, I swear, Barnes, I'll kick you out. I'm not joking.”

 

Bucky tried to give you a smile but it was weak and it didn't reach his eyes. He kissed your forehead and then he was heading to the bedroom. He came back out a couple minutes later with a bag over his shoulder. He dropped it by the door and came back to you, wrapping you in a hug.

 

“I won't be gone long,” he promised as he let go and stood back. “Friday, where’s Murdock?”

 

“Ms Barnes Rogers is in Ms Bishop's residence, Sergeant Barnes,” Friday answered.

 

“I'm gonna go say goodbye to her and I'll be back to kiss you goodbye,” he said with a wink and you chuckled. 

 

You watched him head for the door and for a moment you stood still, trying to get a hold of all the things swirling through your mind. You couldn't help but share his anger with Sam, though you were more understanding about it. Still, you worried about both of them and how this would ultimately affect their relationship, and by extension, your relationships. 

 

The more you thought about it, the more you worried. You huffed and crossed your arms. Then you made a decision. 

 

When Bucky came back, Murdock in his arms, you were zipping up your bag. You saw them in the doorway and you swung the backpack over your shoulder and crossed to meet them. 

 

“I'm coming with you,” you declared, making sure your tone left no room for debate. 

 

“What?” Bucky said, setting Murdock on the ground. You walked into the hallway and grabbed your boots, turning back to sit on the couch to put them on. 

 

“Doll, you can't,” Bucky argued, standing over you.

 

“I'm pregnant. I'm not crippled. I'm coming,” you stated again, reaching down to try and fasten your boots, a task made nearly impossible by your nine months pregnant belly. 

 

Murdock giggled as she watched you, sitting down on the ground to help. “You can't reach your feet, Mommy,” she said with a smile.

 

Murdock attempted to fasten your boot until Bucky took pity on her and knelt down to do it. 

 

“Look, baby, I know you want to be there, but-”

 

“Bucky, just don't,” you cut him off. “This is just as much my flight as it is yours. You can't keep me out of it.”

 

He fastened your other boot and then raised his head, the two of you locked in a staring match. His jaw ticked as he tried to make you back down. He watched your nostrils flare and the determination in your posture only grew. 

 

“Fine,” he gave in. He stood and pulled you up off the couch and then turned to Murdock. “It looks like your mom and I are both going to be gone for a couple days, sorry, baby girl.”

 

Murdock tilted her head, giving Bucky a pleading look. “I wanna see Uncle Sam. Can I come too?”

 

You felt your heart squeeze a little and realized it was just one more reason you had to resolve this; so your daughter didn't have to lose another person she loved. 

 

“No, honey, I'm sorry,” Bucky said in a firm but gentle tone. “You can see your Uncle Sam another time.”

 

“Murdock, we better go see if you can stay with Gamma and Papa,” you said, moving toward the door. 

 

“Papa's out back shooting. I'll go ask him,” Murdock declared, running ahead of you. 

 

“Wait, Murdock,” you tried to stop her, not wanting her running out into the shooting range, but she was out the door.

 

“I better go talk to Clint,” you told Bucky as you followed her. “If you leave without me, you'll pay, Barnes,” you warned as you followed behind your daughter.

 

The door closed and Bucky's phone was in his hand. He took a deep breath and made a call.

 

“Yeah, it's me,” he affirmed to the questioning voice that picked up the line. “I need a favor.”

 

***

 

You continued tapping your pen on the notepad in your lap while Bucky piloted the jet. You had tried to continue working on baby names as a way to keep calm, but it wasn't working. Neither of you said much, probably afraid you would argue with tempers running high right now. 

 

“Are you sure we can't just name him after Steve? Everything is just starting to sound the same at this point,” Bucky confessed as he rubbed at his neck and rolled his shoulders, trying to ease some tension.

 

You gave him a sympathetic smile and set the notebook down, rising to stand behind his chair. You grabbed his shoulders and started massaging, slowly working out knots and you heard him sigh, leaning back into your touch. Minutes ticked by as you worked at his muscles and you felt him finally relaxing. 

 

“What about Stark?” You offered as your fingers continued to knead. 

 

“Tony, Pepper, or Morgan?” Bucky asked, his eyes falling closed as you worked out a particularly bad knot in his back.

 

You chuckled. “No, what if we named him Stark,” you clarified.

 

Bucky sighed contentedly and sat back in his chair when you finally managed to work all the tension out of his neck and shoulders. You smiled and rounded the chair to sit in his lap. 

 

“Well, I don't hate it,” Bucky cautiously replied as he gave you a small grin. 

 

“But you don't really like it either,” you surmised. He didn't answer, just tried to smile wider and you closed your eyes in frustration. 

 

“This must be karma for all the options Steve threw out that I immediately shot down,” you mumbled, slumping against his chest. 

 

You heard the very quiet chuckle in his chest where your ear rested. There were a few moments of silence and Bucky stroked your back. 

 

“I like Anthony,” he offered with a little hopefulness. “If you want to name him after Stark, that's my suggestion.”

 

You thought about it for a moment, let the concept bounce around your mind. It was a nice idea, naming him after the loved ones you lost. You could live with that.

 

“Anthony Steven,” you mused, feeling it out. 

 

“Anthony Steven Rogers,” Bucky followed. 

 

You sat up so you could look at him and gave him a soft smile. “Anthony Steven Rogers Barnes,” you added, emphasizing his name. 

 

Bucky's smile grew, genuine and happy. “Whaddya think, doll?”

 

Your smile grew as well. “I think I'm so glad we don't have to argue about this anymore,” you said with a sigh, slumping against his chest again. 

 

He laughed. “I think I'm so glad we're not naming him after Barton. I couldn't stand to see the smug look on his face.”

 

“Now if only we could figure out our living situation,” you sighed. “We can't stay in the barn forever. It's not big enough for all of us.”

 

“Clint said he'll knock a wall down and build it out, add a bedroom,” Bucky reminded. "He's got the blueprints and everything. He's just waiting for you to give him the go ahead.”

 

“I know, but is that what we want to do?”

 

“I thought you liked being out there with your family, doll.”

 

“I do,” you assured him. You bit your lip and tried to decide what to say. You sat up again and moved back to your own chair. 

 

“What, baby? What is it you're thinking?”

 

“I'm thinking if I keep you out in that tiny Midwestern town with nobody but Clint and sometimes my nephew for company, you're gonna go crazy,” you told him. “I think you don't do good, long term, when you don't have purpose and we need to find what that looks like for you now.”

 

Bucky cocked his head. “Raising my family isn't enough of a purpose?”

 

You smiled. “Not forever, Buck. It's your life, yes, but you need something bigger, and frankly so do I. I never planned on being a mom, but it happened, and that's okay, I don't regret our kids. But I can't let it become my whole identity. I couldn't live with myself and that's no example to set for them, living as only half of who we are.”

 

Bucky watched you thoughtfully for a moment. He hadn't stopped to think much about it, but he knew you were right. Neither one of you would ever be able to just sit back and watch everything happen and not be consumed with guilt for not doing more. You couldn't raise your kids to reach their potential when you weren't doing it yourselves. 

 

“Okay, then when this is over, we'll have to decide what that purpose looks like for us now,” Bucky agreed. “But I think we should tell Clint to go ahead and start building on to the apartment because whatever we're gonna do, that baby is coming first and he needs a place to sleep.”

 

You nodded. “I'll text him. Who knows, maybe he'll have it done by the time we get back?” You chuckled, knowing that was ridiculous, even if it was a nice thought.

 

***

 

You and Bucky waited nervously as you saw Sam approaching. You had hoped you could do this together but as soon as he was in earshot, Bucky lost his cool. 

 

“Shouldn't have given up the shield,” Bucky shouted, stalking towards Sam.

 

Sam set his jaw and glanced at you. “Good to see you too, Buck,” he greeted, side stepping Bucky's menacing figure.

 

Bucky followed him, not letting it go. “This is wrong.”

 

“Hey, hey, look, I'm working, all right? So all this outage is gonna have to wait.”

 

“You didn't know that was gonna happen?”

 

“No, of course I didn't know that was gonna happen. You think it didn't break my heart to see them march him out there and call him the new Captain America?”

 

“This isn't what Steve wanted.”

 

“Buck, calm down,” you cautioned, finally deciding to step in so it didn't escalate. “It's not what Sam wanted either.”

 

But it didn't matter, they were locked in. 

 

“Oh, my God. What do you want me to do? Call America and tell ‘em I changed my mind? Huh?” Sam lobbed back.

 

Bucky gave him an icy glare and Sam huffed.

 

“Yeah, right. It's a great reunion, buddy, be well,” Sam concluded, patting Bucky's arm and attempting to continue toward the waiting plane.

 

You caught Bucky's arm, trying to hold him back, but he was too wound up for reason. 

 

“You had no right to give up the shield, Sam.”

 

Sam finally stopped and turned to Bucky. “Hey, this is what you're not gonna do. You're not gonna come here in your over extended life and tell me about my rights,” he spat, pointing a finger nearly in Bucky's face.

 

You grimaced, feeling the pain from both of them and hating the angry expression on both their faces.

 

“It's over, Bucky,” Sam said definitively. “Besides, I have bigger things to deal with now.”

 

You lost track of the back and forth when a hand came to rest on your shoulder and you turned to see Torres standing behind you. 

 

“Are they always like this?” He asked, watching the two men in front of you like a verbal tennis match. 

 

“... That's not a thing.”  

 

“That's definitely a thing…”

 

You gave the young man a smile. “Well, they're not usually this angry, but yeah, they're always like this. Right now they're just also hurting.”

 

Torres nodded, his face showing he understood that pain too. “Oh, I'm Joaquin, by the way,” he said, offering you his hand with a bright smile. 

 

You smiled back. Something about him reminded you of Peter and it warmed your heart. You shook his outstretched hand. 

 

“I, uh, I know who you are,” he added sheepishly, eyes casting down for a moment. “Oh, congratulations,” he added, looking at your belly. 

 

“Thanks, Joaquin,” you said kindly.

 

“... Doctor Strange-”

 

“Is a sorcerer.”

 

“Aah! A sorcerer is a wizard without a hat…”

 

You quietly groaned and braced your hands on your back, waiting for the childish nonsense in front of you to subside. 

 

“Do you think they'll stop soon?” Joaquin asked, checking his watch. “We have a flight window to make.”

 

“I never know with them,” you said with a sigh, holding your belly.

 

“... The incredibly annoying guy in front of me with the staring problem.”

 

“So, is that… his?” Joaquin asked, awkwardly gesturing between your stomach and Bucky.

 

Your mouth fell open just a little, cracking into an amused grin.

 

The arguing men in front of you both stopped and snapped their heads to look at Joaquin. 

 

“Torres, man, did you just ask a pregnant woman who's the baby daddy? And then assume it happened to be the guy she was standing next to?” Sam accused, giving him a look of disbelief.

 

Joaquin blushed, dropping his head. “I don't know, I was just trying to make conversation.”

 

“I mean, she's my wife, so it was a good guess,” Bucky offered with a weak, thin smile.

 

Sam scoffed. “Yeah, but still wrong-”

 

“Alright,” you put a stop to things before someone could get really hurt. “Joaquin, it's okay, I'm not offended,” you told him with another warm smile.

 

“I'm coming with you,” Bucky announced, turning to Sam again.

 

“No, you're not,” San immediately countered, walking in the direction of the plane again, Joaquin on his heels. 

 

Bucky followed and you began to as well, but he turned and stopped you. 

 

“I'm sorry, doll, but I can't let you,” he said firmly. “It's too risky like this,” he gestured to your prominent belly. 

 

You crossed your arms, wanting to protest, but you knew ultimately he was right. You were in no position to go after a threat at the moment. You huffed and slumped your shoulders. 

 

“Okay, well, what do I do, then?”

 

Bucky turned and nodded to a figure standing in the corner that you had failed to notice. You turned to see Yelena leaning against the stairway and she waved. You sighed again, knowing you should have seen her earlier and knowing Bucky was definitely right, you shouldn't be in the field right now. 

 

“I asked Yelena if you could stay with her. I kinda figured I might get roped into something once we got here,” Bucky explained. 

 

Yelena had come to stand by you, giving Bucky a smile. “Do not worry, I will take good care of her,” she promised.

 

“Thanks, Lena,” Bucky said with an appreciative look. 

 

“Of course, James.”

 

Bucky turned back to pull you in for a kiss. He let go and rested his forehead on yours.

 

“Don't you dare die,” you whispered.

 

“You got it, doll,” he whispered back. “I love you.”

 

“I love you, Bucky Barnes.”

 

He leaned over, quick, to kiss your belly. “See you soon, buddy,” he whispered.

 

“Get outta here before Sam leaves without you,” you encouraged him. 

 

He gave you one last kiss and darted for the plane. 

 

***

 

You hit the call button again, hoping this would be the time he picked up. It rang and rang until the voicemail picked up. You groaned in frustration and ended the call, fighting the urge to throw your phone across the room. 

 

Yelena came in and sat next to you, handing you a glass. “He is still not picking up?”

 

“I don't know what else to do,” you said defeated. You had been trying Bucky's phone for the last couple days, ever since Sam texted you that he might need a reminder of who he was. He wouldn't tell you what happened, but you got the feeling it had dredged up old issues. 

 

“The last time he shut down like this, I didn't hear from him for over a week and Steve had to go collect him from some abandoned safehouse in Eastern Europe,” you shared, trying not to wring your hands. 

 

“Okay, look, first of all, he is not by himself, he has Sam,” Yelena reminded you. “He will not let James just… disappear.”

 

You gave her a weak smile, and sipped from the glass.

 

“And second, he may just not be in a place where he can call you, we do not know. So, let's not panic, okay?”

 

You nodded, trying to remain as calm as you could. Yelena put something on the TV. She had a weird fascination with American talk shows. You were about to nod off, when your phone rang and you sat up quickly fumbling on the screen to answer it. 

 

“Bucky?” You heard a high-pitched version of your voice squeaking out. 

 

“Hey, doll,” Bucky answered quietly.

 

You tried not to cry from relief. “I've been calling you for days. You scared me.”

 

“I know, baby, I'm sorry,” he sighed. It's been a rough couple of days. “But I'm okay, I promise,” he tried to reassure you. 

 

“Sam said he was worried about you, that you had to…” you tried to find a way to put it that wouldn't make the situation worse. 

 

“It wasn't real. I'm okay. I had to pretend to be him, the Soldat; a means to an end. But I'm alright,” he repeated. 

 

You listened to his voice, trying to decide if he really was okay. It was hard to tell. There were so many other things on his mind already. 

 

“Buck,” you sighed. “Just be careful.”

 

“I will,” he replied. “But that isn't why I called, babe. I wanted to check on you. I didn't know if you'd seen it yet.”

 

“Seen what?”

 

Before Bucky could answer, Yelena was playing a clip on screen in front of you.

 

“I assume he is referring to this,” she said very softly. 

 

You watched in horror as a video played depicting the new Captain America as he mercilessly bludgeoned someone to death in a square… using Steve's shield.

 

You felt all the blood drain from your face and your skin went cold.

 

“... Babe? Babe, are you there? Talk to me, doll…” Bucky was saying, but he sounded distant. 

 

You shook your head a little and suddenly you knew you were going to be sick. Yelena must have seen the look on your face because she was shoving a wastebasket in your face just in time.

 

She took the phone from your hand as you bent over the container, retching. She held your hair out of your face and put the phone to her ear. 

 

“James?”

 

“Lena, what happened?”

 

“She is being sick, give her a moment. That was pretty disgusting, right? This new Captain America is not a great guy.”

 

“Yeah, don't get me started.”

 

“Okay, she wants the phone back now.”

 

You were wiping your mouth with the tissue Yelena handed you and you took the phone back from her. 

 

“Sorry, I'm here,” you told Bucky. 

 

“No, I'm sorry, baby, I should have warned you,” he apologized. “I knew it was going to be hard for you to see. I wish you didn't have to see it at all.”

 

“That went against everything Steve stood for, his legacy. That man is destroying it,” you said, voice shaking as you felt flooded with rage. “Bucky, he can't keep the shield. If Sam doesn't want it, then fine, you take it. We'll bury it at Steve's headstone. Just, please, get it out of the hands of that self righteous asshole.”

 

“We did, YN. It's done. Sam has it. You don't have to worry.”

 

You breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “Are you coming back, then?”

 

“Not yet, I'm sorry. We have a lead. We think we know where Karli is going to strike. I told Sam I'd be there.”

 

You nodded even though he couldn't see it. “You and Sam watch each other's backs. Bring each other home.”

 

“We will. I promise you, doll. It's late, baby, I'm sure you're tired. Get some rest, okay?”

 

“Alright. Love you, Buck,” you said through a yawn. 

 

“Love you too. Can you give the phone back to Lena? I need her help with something real quick.”

 

You did as he asked and promptly made your way to the bathroom, feeling the overwhelming need to brush your teeth. 

 

“You need something, James?” Yelena asked.

 

“Yeah, I need to know how she's really doing,” Bucky answered. “I know she's probably holding it together, but, especially with the baby coming any time, I'm worried.

 

“She is trying to stay strong, but she's worried about you. I think it will help that you have resolved this whole issue with the knock-off Captain America.”

 

“And the baby?”

 

“Your baby is fine, James. She was having something yesterday, what did she call it, some strange name, like labor, but not really-”

 

“Braxton Hicks.”

 

“Yes! That was it. She said it was nothing to worry about.”

 

Yelena could hear Bucky sigh.

 

“Do not worry, James. I know where the hospital is, if she needs to go.”

 

“I know, it's not that. I just, I don't want to not be there. I don't want to miss it,” Bucky said quietly.

 

“You won't,” Yelena assured him. “Just do your job and come back to her. Do not worry about the rest right now.”

 

“You're right,” Bucky admitted. “Tell her I'll call her as soon as I can.”

 

***

 

Three days later, you woke up in the middle of the night, covered in sweat and gasping from another nightmare. You got them whenever Bucky wasn't with you now, too many years of trauma and loss driving a kind of separation anxiety you didn't know you could experience. You sat up, running your hands through your hair. You frowned, feeling soaked in sweat, assuming it must have been a particularly bad dream. You flicked on the light by the bed and threw back the covers. 

 

“Oh, shit!” You yelped, staring down at the sheets. 

 

You didn't think you had been particularly loud, but you looked up and Yelena was suddenly in the doorway, holding a small blade. 

 

“What is it, what's wrong?” She barked, eyes scanning the room.

 

You groaned as you got to the edge and threw your legs over the side of the bed. “Put the knife away, Lena, nothing's wrong. My water just broke.”

 

She squealed and ran to you. “Oh my goodness, okay. The baby is coming- what do we do?”

 

“No, the baby's not coming, not yet. I'm just ready to go into labor. It's too early for anything else,” you slowly stood up. “And Bucky's not back yet,” you added. 

 

“Okay, so what now, then?” Yelena asked, offering her hands to help you to your feet.

 

“First, we change the bed and I take a shower,” you took a step toward the door, but immediately stopped when a sharp pain starting in your lower back hit and you shrieked, grabbing Yelena’s arms to steady yourself as it slowly passed.

 

“Okay, nevermind, I'm in labor,” you breathed, sitting back down. 

 

“You're in labor!” Yelena cried.

 

You felt that tightness in your lower abdomen and squeezed your eyes shut. “This is going so much faster than last time,” you said through gritted teeth. 

 

“What can I do?” Yelena asked, bouncing from foot to foot. 

 

“Call Bucky,” you groaned, holding your back. “And get me to a hospital.”

Chapter 30: Inspiring

“Sorry, I was, uh, I was texting and so, all I heard was, um, “a Black guy in the stars and stripes,”” Bucky told Sam with a teasing shrug. 

 

They looked at each other. Sam shook his head and they both laughed.

 

“Nice job, Cap,” Bucky said, giving Sam a sincere look. He reached up and patted him on the back; tapping the shield. 

 

“Thanks,” Sam said with a smile.

 

As they walked away from the cacophony of lights and emergency vehicles, Bucky felt his phone vibrating. Looking down at the screen, he felt a jolt of panic in his chest. 

 

“Yelena? Is everything okay?” He said as he put the phone to his ear. 

 

“You need to get here. Quickly. The baby is coming,” Yelena replied. 

 

Bucky grabbed Sam's arm and he stopped, turning to give him a questioning look. 

 

“The baby's coming now? It's too soon,” Bucky said, still trying to catch up. 

 

“Yeah, well, tell that to him,” Yelena said with a huff. “You need to get here. Don't make her do this without you, James.”

 

Bucky gave a curt reply and hung up. He turned to Sam, looking a bit frazzled.

 

“Your kid's on the way?” Sam asked with a grin. 

 

Bucky gave a half smile. “Yeah, you gotta get me to her, Sam. Please.”

 

“Come on, let's flash this shield around and see what we can commandeer,” Sam said with a laugh as they jogged off toward a helicopter. 

 

***

 

“I'll get an Uber,” Sam said, pulling out his phone when they landed. 

 

“Uh, I don't think we need to,” Bucky said, pointing toward the curb where a tall, broad man with a scraggly beard stood holding a sign that read ‘Winter Soldier’.

 

Bucky and Sam exchanged a skeptical look but approached the man. He broke into a toothy grin.

 

“The Winter Soldier!” He exclaimed, extending Bucky his hand. “It is an honor to be of service. And the Falcon- well, now Captain America- wonderful to meet you both.”

 

Bucky hesitantly shook his hand, trying to temper his glare and his growing anxiety.

 

“And you are?” He asked curtly.

 

“I am Alexei Shostakov, the Red Guardian,” he said proudly, standing a bit straighter, looking expectantly at Bucky and Sam. 

 

Sam and Bucky stared back, blinking and expressionless.

 

Alexei sighed. “I am Yelena's dad. She asked me to bring you to the hospital.”

 

Bucky nodded, breathing a sigh of relief. “Great. Let's go,” he said, pushing past Alexei to get in the car. 

 

Sam gave Alexei an apologetic smile. “Sorry about him, I'd say it's because his wife is having a baby, but he's always kind of a surly jackass.”

 

Alexei nodded, getting in the driver's seat and Sam got in as well.

 

“I heard that,” Bucky said, giving Sam a glare in the rearview mirror.

 

“Okay, let us get you to the hospital, dad,” Alexei said with a chuckle as he turned the engine and needlessly peeled out into traffic.

 

The ride to the hospital was tense and mostly silent, save for Alexei complaining about American drivers and trying to get Sam to consider him for the next Avengers team.

 

Bucky anxiously tapped on his leg as he constantly checked his phone for messages. Yelena was keeping him in the loop, but he knew it was getting close and he was starting to really worry they wouldn't make it. 

 

“... I am also super soldier, you know,” Alexei was telling Sam. 

 

“Oh good, you and the bionic staring machine can bond over that,” Sam shot back with a dry chuckle, trying to catch Bucky's eye in the mirror again.

 

But Bucky barely heard a word because they were pulling into the hospital and he was rolling out of the car before it even came to a stop. 

 

“Yeah, we'll just park the car then,” Sam shouted after him as he ran through the doors.

 

***

 

“Barnes Rogers?” Bucky barked at the poor, unsuspecting girl behind the counter.

 

The girl hadn't seen him approach and she yelped in surprise, flinching when she looked up into the intimidating stare of the Winter Soldier. 

 

She stammered that she hadn't heard the name and he took a breath, about to practically yell at her this time, but was stopped when Yelena's hand grabbed his arm. 

 

“Calm down, James,” Yelena chided. 

 

“I'm sorry about him,” she said, smiling at the girl who looked terrified. “Grumpy super soldier whose wife is having his dead best friend's baby; you know how it is,” she mumbled, waving kindly as she pushed Bucky away and down the hall.

 

“He's here, milaya moya,” Yelena told you as she walked in the room, Bucky quickly passed her to wrap his arms around you. 

 

“I'm here, baby,” he whispered, trying to soothe you as you struggled in pain. 

 

“Buck, I'm glad you got here, but get your arms off me or I'll rip them off,” you bit out with an angry cry, gripping the edge of the bed.

 

Bucky immediately let go and backed off, staring at you, feeling a little helpless as to what to do. 

 

Yelena gave him a sympathetic smile when he looked back at her. “It's been like this,” she said quietly. 

 

“If your insides were being rearranged so you could push a fucking watermelon out of your vagina, you'd be cranky too, Yelena,” you countered, giving her a scathing look.

 

Bucky tensed and flexed, trying to resist the urge to reach out to you and potentially get snapped at again.

 

“What do I do, love? How can I help?” He finally asked, crouching down in front of you as you fought to breathe through another contraction.

 

You reached out and grabbed his shoulders, trying not to scream. When you let up, struggling to catch your breath, he sat on the bed next to you and gave you his left hand. 

 

“Here. You can squeeze as hard as you want,” he said softly, trying to laugh, but it came out breathy and nervous.

 

You tried to give him a smile, feeling momentarily bad about snapping at him. The reprieve only lasted a couple minutes before another contraction hit and you were screaming again, testing the durability of his metal arm as you dug your fingers against him.

 

“Oh, my God, if Steve wasn't dead, I'd kill him myself for talking me into this,” you shouted. “I hate him,” you muttered as you slumped against Bucky's side when the contraction passed. 

 

Bucky took a chance and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, bracing himself in case you turned on him like a feral cat. But you just whimpered, tears squeezing out as you tried to catch your breath and prepare for the next contraction.

 

“If you so much as think about doing this to me again, I'll cut your balls off in your sleep, I swear,” you threatened as you cried into his shoulder.

 

A nurse came in and asked how everyone was. Bucky gave her a pleading look and she just smiled, having seen the same look on so many dads faces before. 

 

“How are you doing, momma?” She asked gently, coming over to check your vitals. You just groaned. 

 

“How are the contractions?” She asked.

 

“The last ones were 2 minutes, 40 seconds apart,” Yelena answered calmly. 

 

The nurse nodded. “It's almost time. There's some people waiting for you by the desk,” she said as she walked toward the door. 

 

“Uh uh, no way,” you said, shaking your head. “Sam can't see me like this. If he opens his mouth there's like a 98 percent chance I'll put one of Lena’s coffee stirs in his neck.”

 

“I'll go talk to them. Did anyone call Clint and Laura yet? Have you talked to Murdock?” Bucky asked.

 

You squeezed your eyes shut, groaning as the pain began again. “That's your job, Barnes,” you spat. “It's my job to have a baby.”

 

Bucky set his jaw and nodded. He stood looking at Yelena again, who just shook her head, calm as ever. 

 

“I'll go talk to Sam and call Clint,” he declared. He crossed to the door and glanced back at you once more, feeling distinctly like he was in a no win scenario, before heading out. 

 

He found Sam and Alexei sitting in the waiting area. Sam was fighting sleep. Alexei looked excited, nodding and smiling at everyone who looked at him. 

 

Sam sat up and shook his shoulders when he saw Bucky. 

 

“How's she doing?” He asked.

 

Bucky rubbed at his neck and slumped into the chair next to Sam. 

 

“Well, she said she hates Steve and threatened to castrate me if I put her through this again,” Bucky said, running his hands down his tired face.

 

“So… about like normal then,” Sam sarcastically replied with a quiet chuckle.

 

“Can I see her?” Sam said hesitantly. 

 

Bucky shook his head. “No, she threatened to kill you too. I think you better not,” he deadpanned. 

 

Sam laughed and clapped Bucky on the shoulder. “Hang in there, Buck,” he offered with a sorry grin.

 

“I gotta call Clint,” Bucky said, taking out his phone. “Alexei, would you be able to pick the family up from the airport? I'm sure they'll head right down.”

 

“Of course!” Alexei beamed. He took out a notebook and wrote down Clint's name. “So many Avengers to meet today,” he said with a smile. “Boy, you guys really stick together, like a real family, eh?”

 

“Yeah, well, for all intents and purposes, he's basically my father in law,” Bucky said with a roll of his eyes, dialing his phone.

 

***

 

“C'mon, baby, he's almost here,” Bucky encouraged you as clung to his hand, pushing with all your might.

 

You slumped back against the bed, gulping air and finally heard the sounds of your infant crying. A few short moments later, you watched with tears of joy in your eyes as Bucky sat beside you, holding your son and carefully transferred him to your arms.

 

“He got Steve's blonde hair,” Bucky whispered with a chuckle. 

 

You smiled, gently running your fingers over his tiny head. “He probably got his eyes too,” you wagered. “I apparently have very weak genes.”

 

“I don't think that's it, babe. I think it's more likely super soldiers just have very strong genes,”’ he suggested.

 

Your son cooed and you and Bucky both beamed down at him. 

 

“Hey, pal,” Bucky said quietly, resting his hand on the baby's head. 

 

You were reminded of this same moment five years ago when you brought Murdock into the world. You stared at this mirrored image, Bucky cradling Steve's child, just as Steve had once done for his, and your heart just ached.

 

They were like two parallel lines; living alongside each other and never able to meet. It was a cruel fate.

 

And yet you were so grateful for each of them and the part they played in your life. The love they had shared and the piece of themselves they had left behind.

 

Bucky was watching you closely and you gave him a sincere smile. You saw him let out a breath, and he leaned over to place a kiss on your forehead. 

 

“I'm sorry Steve isn't here,” Bucky said quietly.

 

“Don't be sorry,” you said, leaning against his shoulder. “He was here to give us this part of himself. All we have to do is be happy. That's all he'd want.”

 

Bucky rested his head on top of yours. 

 

“I love you, YN,” he whispered softly as he stared down at his son. 

 

“I love you, Buck,” you echoed. 

 

“Murdock's going to be so excited to meet him,” Bucky said with a smile. 

 

***

 

… 3 years later…

 

You watched from the back porch as your children ran around the yard, chasing each other and dodging imaginary blows from weapons and villains. Your son threw his tiny shield and you watched your daughter block the object with her “metal” arm, your mouth falling open. 

 

“Tony!” You shouted. He turned to look at you, his face sheepish. “You can't throw the shield at your sister, only at the targets Daddy set up. You know that.”

 

You folded your arms and gave him a stern look. He dropped his head, hands on his hips, and sighed, and for all the world, you saw the ghost of Steve come back to haunt you.

 

Except for the eyes. He had gotten your eyes, after all.

 

Murdock walked over and kicked the edge of the shield, bouncing it up onto her arm and you silently cursed Sam for showing her that particular move.

 

You sighed and put a hand to your head, slumping your shoulders. It was really no use trying to stop it. These kids literally had superheroes in their blood.

 

“Just… try not to break any bones,” you said, defeated. “You don't heal quite as fast as your dads do.”

 

They just giggled. Murdock handed the shield back to her little brother. She ruffled his hair, a habit she had undoubtedly picked up from Clint, and told him she was going to go practice with her bow. Tony started practicing throwing and catching his shield as it bounced off the mats Bucky had attached to a couple trees.

 

You felt a hand on your back and turned to see Bucky. He smiled and handed you a beer, which you gladly accepted, giving him an appreciative smile in return. You saw something flash across his face, coming and going in a split second, and you were momentarily confused; was it disappointment? But you chose to ignore it. 

 

“I'm still not used to this whole 9-5 thing you've got going on,” you remarked.

 

“Ha, yeah, me neither,” he agreed with a huff, taking a pull off his own bottle. “Especially since it feels like nothing ever gets done, since we go on recess everyday at 4.”

 

You grinned up at him. “Oh, don't give up, Congressman Barnes. I'm sure it'll get better.”

 

“I don't know, babe. Maybe it isn't for me,” Bucky confessed. 

 

“If it's not, that's okay,” you assured him. “Call Sam and tell him you changed your mind. I'd be glad to have my old partner back,” you said, lightly elbowing his side.

 

Bucky gave you a crooked grin and hooked his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. You both watched your son for a moment and you stifled a shriek when he failed to catch the shield and had to duck so it didn't hit him in the face. 

 

“Relax, doll,” Bucky encouraged, squeezing your side. “Shuri said it was safe for him to use. He won't get hurt.”

 

“Oh, I'm sure he will,” you countered, rolling your eyes. “Considering who's blood is running through his veins; the man who once said ‘if you get killed, walk out off’. I'm frankly shocked we don't spend all our time in the ER with the both of them.”

 

Bucky laughed and you took a swig of your beer. That same curious look flashed across his face again as he watched you. You raised an eyebrow.

 

“Okay, out with it; what's that look about?” You finally asked.

 

“Hmm? Oh, nothing,” he played it off, quickly drinking his beer and staring back at the kids, who were now chasing each other and laughing. 

 

“Nice try, Barnes,” you deadpanned. “But I'm not letting it go. You're thinking something. Tell me.”

 

Bucky sighed, dropping his head. “It's just, I heard you mumbling to yourself the other day that you were late. I was around the corner and you didn't know I was there so I didn't say anything,” he said. “I mighta… gotten my hopes up a little, I guess,” he said, ducking his head with a shy smile.

 

You fought the urge to roll your eyes and opted to shut them instead, gathering your thoughts. “Buck, c'mon, we've talked about this. I don't want to have another baby. I'm happy with what we have, and two kids is two kids more than I ever intended.”

 

“I know, doll, I know,” he assured you. “I wasn't trying to pressure you. I just thought, if it happened… would it be the worst thing?” He asked, eyeing you cautiously. 

 

You cocked your head and frowned. “I feel like maybe you forgot that I threatened to castrate you if you put me through that again.”

 

Bucky laughed and turned to face you, wrapping his arms around your middle. “Oh, I didn't forget, baby, believe me.”

 

You smiled and set your beer on the porch rail, winding your hands around his neck. “Sorry to disappoint you, Soldier, but I'm not pregnant.”

 

“Yeah, I figured as much when you took the beer."

 

You bit your lip and he gave you one of those lopsided smiles that never failed to make you fall in love with him all over again. You dropped your arms to his waist and laid your cheek against his chest, returning your attention to watch your children play and he did the same.

 

“What time will Kate and Peter get here tomorrow?” Bucky asked. 

 

“Peter said probably around 9. He told Murdock he's never seen Steve's exhibit at the museum, which I don't think is actually true, but you know much she loves to show people and he promised they would go. We can leave while they're gone. It'll be easier that way, I think,” you answered. 

 

You picked your head up to look at him again. “Can you please just tell me where we're going? You know it stresses me out when I don't know the plan and I don't know what to pack.”

 

Bucky gave you an unimpressed look. “Nice try, doll. I packed for you already and you know it.”

 

You frowned with a huff. “Damn. I forgot.”

 

“Just be surprised, baby. Humor me,” he said as he kissed your temple. 

 

***

 

“Uncle Peter!!!” Murdock shrieked as she came down the stairs and jumped into his arms. You had long since given up on trying to explain to the kids that Peter was actually their cousin and just let it go.

 

Peter caught her easily and hugged her tight. You thought, not for the first time, you had to get her to stop doing that because not every person in her life had super strength and she was bound to injure someone as time went on; like her grandfather, you thought with a wince. 

 

“Hey, Mur, I missed you,” Peter said as he set her down.

 

“Where's Auntie Kate?” She asked as she scanned the house. 

 

Everyone turned as they heard the distinct sound of someone being sick in the other room. You winced and Peter swallowed, looking nervous. 

 

“Uh, she just got a little motion sick on the drive, but she'll be okay, don't worry,” Peter answered her. “Why don't you go help Tony get his shoes on so we can leave soon, okay?”

 

Murdock nodded and ran off to help her brother. 

 

“If Kate's not feeling well, we don't have to leave today. She can rest and see how she feels and we'll just leave tomorrow,” you offered, handing Peter a cup of coffee.

 

Peter gave you a nervous smile. “It's alright. She'll be okay in a few minutes.”

 

“Just tell her, Peter,” Kate said as she walked out of the bathroom wiping her face with a towel. She still looked a little piqued, but it was fading.

 

You turned back to Peter, eyebrows raised. “Tell me what?”

 

Peter gave you the dopiest grin you'd ever seen on his face since the day he was born. “Kate's pregnant.”

 

Your eyes went wide and you felt your hand fly to your mouth as you gasped. Your eyes darted to Kate and she gave you a bright smile. 

 

“Surprise,” she said with a giggle.

 

“Oh my goodness, congratulations!” You said, gathering her into a hug.

 

Kate laughed and thanked you. You let go of her to lock your nephew in a bone crushing hug and he laughed, albeit very nervously. 

 

“Don't worry, bug. You're gonna be a great dad,” you assured him. 

 

“God, I hope so,” he said, his voice just a little shaky. “I'm a nervous wreck, Auntie,” he admitted as you let him go. 

 

Bucky clapped him on the shoulder from behind, making Peter jump and Bucky laughed.

 

“That's a good thing, Pete,” Bucky assured him. “That means you'll take it seriously and your kids will be better off for it.”

 

You turned back to Kate. “Are you sure you're feeling up to keeping the kids? We can just drop them with Clint and Laura,” you offered. 

 

“No, we'll be okay. I'm just getting sick in the mornings right now. Otherwise I'm fine. Just tired,” she replied. “Besides, it's good practice.”

 

“Have you told Clint?” You asked Kate as she took a seat at the table. Peter sat next to her, an arm curled protectively around her shoulders, and it made you smile.

 

“No, not yet. We're gonna tell them this week, though, so you don't have to keep it to yourself for long,” Kate replied. 

 

Bucky walked over and handed Kate a mug. “Ginger tea. It helps with the morning sickness,” he explained with a kind smile. 

 

Kate gave him an appreciative smile. “That's very thoughtful. Thank you, Sergeant Barnes, or, I guess it's Congressman Barnes, now.”

 

Bucky laughed and rolled his eyes as he leaned against the kitchen island. “I think you've more than earned the right to call me Bucky, kid.”

 

***

 

You watched Bucky in the seat across from you as he flipped through a multipage document, the crease in his brow deepening with every page he turned. He was mumbling to himself and rubbing at his beard. All you could make out was “goddamn packets” and you smiled to yourself. 

 

You turned back to the window and watched the clouds rolling away underneath you, occasionally breaking to reveal the topography below, which you were closely studying. You saw the flat squares of farmland giving way to more flowing, untouched hills. The hills were just starting to become more pronounced ridges before the window screen was slammed shut.

 

You snapped your head up to look at Bucky, frowning in irritation. 

 

“Nuh-uh, that's cheating,” he scolded. 

 

“We're 30,000 feet in the air,” you protested. “I can't tell where we're going from here.”

 

Bucky gave you a knowing grin. “You sure as hell, can, doll, and we both know it. Your geolocation skills are basically supernatural.”

 

You sat back in your chair and crossed your arms. “Well now what am I supposed to do for an indeterminate amount of time stuck on an airplane?” You pouted.

 

“Watch a movie,” Bucky suggested as he sipped his whiskey and continued reading his pages. 

 

“I don't feel like it,” you continued to complain.

 

“Read a book.”

 

“I didn't bring one.”

 

“Paint.”

 

“I can't. You closed the window and there's nothing inspiring here.”

 

Bucky set the packet down and gave you a serious look. “There's nothing inspiring here?” He repeated, slowly leaning toward you, resting his forearms on his knees.

 

You knew that look. You bit your lip, watching his every move very closely.

 

“You don't find me inspiring, doll?” He questioned, voice low and dark. He tilted his head, watching you squirm and a smirk curled his lips. 

 

“You know I don't paint people,” you countered, fighting the urge to lick your lips, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

 

“Neither do I, baby,” he pointed out. He suddenly surged forward, grabbing your hips and pulling you into his lap. “But I'm willing to paint you with my tongue, does that count?” He drawled as he ran the tip of his tongue along your jaw and then slowly down your neck.

 

You shuddered, curling your fingers into his hair. “You're just trying to keep me distracted so I don't look at the landscape,” you accused, but you couldn't stop the whine that escaped your throat when his tongue reached your cleavage and he paused to suck a mark into the skin. 

 

“Sounds like it's workin’, doll,” he pointed out.

 

His hands left your hips to grab your ass and he held you against him so he could slide out of the chair and set you on the ground. He hovered over you, that devilish smirk on his face, as his hand slipped under your shirt, ghosting over your skin.

 

“Buck, we're on a plane,” you reminded as he nudged your legs open with his thigh and settled between them.

 

“That's the beauty of a private plane, sweetheart. Nobody's gonna disturb us,” he countered.

 

His hand moved further up and he cupped a breast, kneading softly. You arched into his touch and a soft moan fell from your lips. 

 

Bucky grinned, leaning down so his lips were at your ear. “I can stop, if you want,” he offered, while he pressed his thigh against your core.

 

You moaned and arched up again, seeking more of him, your body betraying you like it always did at his touch.

 

“Doesn't sound like that's what you want, though,” he said with a dark chuckle. 

 

You looked up at the self satisfied smirk on his lips and you decided two could play at that game.

 

When he leaned down and slanted his lips against yours, you made your move. 

 

You quickly wrapped your legs around his waist, pushed off the floor and used his weight against him to flip your positions. You looked down at the surprise on his face, giving him a smug grin of your own.

 

“My turn,” you chuckled and you dipped your head to run your tongue down his neck.

 

Your hands deftly worked at the buttons on his shirt as you kissed him, deep and slow, caressing his tongue with your own. He moaned into your mouth and his hands grabbed your shirt, pushing it up your body. You broke the kiss, sitting back, and slowly peeled your shirt off, tossing it away. You reached down and pushed his unbuttoned shirt open, grazing your nails over his chest. You grinned as you watched his muscles jump and flex under your touch.

 

He slid his hands up your body until they were holding your ribcage and slowly ran his thumbs along the underside of your breasts. You leaned into his touch, sighing when his thumbs moved to swipe over the lace of your bra and tease your nipples.

 

He grinned and sat up, pushing you back to straddle his thighs as his hands slid around your back and pulled you flush with his body. He quickly unfastened your thin lace bra and discarded it. You pressed your bare chest against his, arching into him at the feeling of your peaked nipples on his hot skin. 

 

Your hands tangled in his hair again and you rolled your hips into his, making him growl. He grabbed your ass and slammed your hips to his, pulling a rolling moan out of you. He rocked you against him, grinding and rolling his hips and moans and whimpers of his name spilled from you in an endless stream. 

 

“Those beautiful sounds you make are still enough to make me come, baby,” he groaned against your neck. “God, you sound as beautiful as the very first time I made you moan my name.”

 

You chuckled, the memory flooding your senses for a moment.

 

“I can't believe the first time you made me come was in a church, Bucky,” you breathed as he moved his hands back to your breasts, kneading and tweaking your nipples. “We're going to hell for sure.”

 

“As long as you're there with me, doll,” he whispered as he ducked his head to suck a nipple into his mouth. You couldn't stop the moans that continued to pour out of you as he meticulously licked and sucked and nibbled on your nipples and breasts, making you practically dizzy with desire. 

 

“Bucky,” you whined, uncomfortably wet and needy. “Baby, no matter how hard you try, you're not gonna make me come like that.”

 

“I did it once, I can do it again,” he protested.

 

“You know why it worked then. It's not gonna happen now.” You whined again, grinding your hips into his with desperation. “Jesus, Barnes, fuck me, please.”

 

Bucky growled and swiftly pushed you onto your back. He reached down and pulled off your jeans and panties in one motion and made quick work of his own before he was settling between your legs again. 

 

He reached down between you to run his fingers through your folds and you cried out, already so sensitive. He wore a wicked grin as he pressed his tip to your entrance and you begged him to take you once more. He slid home with ease, you were so wet and ready for him. You trapped him against you as you wound your legs around his back, rolling your hips up, desperate for friction. 

 

Bucky claimed your lips in a possessive kiss and began rocking his hips into you. You rose up to meet him with each thrust, a perfect rhythm, your bodies in sync after years of learning every inch of each other. Unable to maintain the kiss with your movements, he pulled his mouth from yours and rested your foreheads together. 

 

“I love you, YN. God damnit, I love you,” he breathed as his hips continued to meet yours again and again.

 

“I know, Bucky,” you assured him. “I love you too, baby. God, I can't live without you.”

 

You saw his eyes squeeze shut and his rhythm started to falter and you felt it too, your release right on the horizon. With his next thrust you came hard, gasping and screaming his name as you were swept away by white hot pleasure. He came with you, whispering a chant of your name and curses as you felt his hot come filling you. 

 

He slowly came to a halt, still resting his forehead to yours as you breathed each other's air and came back down to earth. 

 

“Hey, we're officially part of the Mile High Club,” Bucky said with a breathy laugh.

 

You stared at him for a moment before you burst out laughing. 

 

“Yeah, I guess we are,” you agreed with a shrug.

Chapter 31: Let Fate Decide

“Buck, this is ridiculous,” you protested, hands reaching up to the blindfold that was currently wrapped around your head.

 

Bucky reached over and swatted your hands back down. “Just play along, baby. We'll be there soon.”

 

You huffed but did as you were asked, feeling the car wind along as you went. You cracked the window and your senses were flooded with the clean scent of pine and cedar and damp earth and you smiled. 

 

“We're in the mountains,” you said, breathing in the cool fresh air. 

 

Bucky sighed, but you could hear a smile in his voice when he spoke. “You're really impossible to surprise, you know that?”

 

“You once turned to dust in front of me. That was pretty surprising,” you remarked with a smirk.

 

You felt the vehicle slowing into a turn and a few minutes later, you came to a stop and Bucky cut the engine. You grinned, feeling excitement building, but you continued to humor him, staying put until he opened your door and guided you to your feet. Bucky held your hand and you followed, trusting him to keep you from tripping until he finally stopped you and you felt him reach out and remove the blindfold.

 

You slowly blinked your eyes to focus. You scanned your surroundings to find you were in front of a beautiful a-frame cabin, the front of which was floor to ceiling windows. You slowly turned to take in the area and the scene took your breath away. You were staring out on a turquoise alpine lake hemmed in by snow capped mountain peaks. It was quiet and calm and peaceful.

 

You looked over your shoulder back at Bucky, eyes lit up and wearing a wide, genuine smile. “This is amazing, Bucky. Thank you.”

 

Bucky gave you a half smile and snaked his arms around your waist, pulling your back against his chest. “You're welcome, doll,” he said softly, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “I'll go get our bags and meet you inside.”

 

He kissed you again before heading back to the car. You turned and headed across the wide deck to enter the cabin. It was an open space, full of natural light and lots of plush and cozy furniture and surfaces. There was a huge fireplace and a staircase that led to a loft where the bed was.

 

You turned to look back out the enormous windows that perfectly framed the lake and mountains. Bucky came in and set your bags down, smiling at you as you stared at the landscape. He loved that look on your face. You lit up like a Christmas tree when you were surrounded by mountains and he would never stop being mesmerized by it. 

 

“I figured with this view, even if you didn't feel like hiking or the weather wasn't great, you would have an endless supply of things to paint; inspiration,” he said with a wink.

 

“You did good, Buck. It's gorgeous,” you turned and gave him a wry smile. “And I don't even know where we are.”

 

He raised an eyebrow skeptically.

 

“Okay, I know we're in the Rockies,” you admitted. “But I don't know specifically where.”

 

Bucky crossed his arms, his look unchanged.

 

You sighed and gave him a sheepish smile. “Alright, fine, I know we're in the Canadian Rockies. But I swear, that's as close as I can get.”

 

He shook his head with a chuckle. “I'll take it. Your powers of geography are positively occult, woman.”

 

You laughed and he kissed your cheek as he made his way to the kitchen area. He pulled a bottle of champagne from the fridge and while he was pouring glasses you sat on the plush sofa positioned to stare out over the lake. Bucky sat beside you, handing you a glass and wrapping his arm around your waist to position you to rest against his chest. 

 

“Happy Anniversary, baby,” he said as he leaned in and you clinked your glasses together.

 

You smiled up at him, tipping the glass lightly to your lips. “Happy anniversary,” you echoed, settling against him with a contented sigh. 

 

“I can't believe it's been ten years,” you remarked as you watched the ripples on the brightly colored water. 

 

“I think 5 of those years don't count, considering I was blipped and you were married to my best friend,” Bucky pointed out with a dry laugh.

 

“It's still been ten years since our wedding, however you wanna count it,” you argued. You finished your drink and Bucky took your glass, setting it on a side table along with his own.

 

You turned so you could hook an arm around his torso and laid your chest across his. He softly ran his hand over your back as you sat in contented silence admiring the view.

 

You were reminded of the events of this morning and your face curled into a smile. “I can't believe Peter's going to be a father,” you said.”

 

You heard a quiet chuckle rumble through Bucky's chest. “Yeah, it'll certainly be an adventure for both of them.”

 

“I wonder how Clint will take it? He's even more protective of Kate than he was with me.”

 

“Yeah, but he likes Peter more than he likes me,” Bucky stated. 

 

“That's not true,” you argued with a frown.

 

“Yes it is, babe, you know it is. Do you know how many times I've heard him grumble ‘I miss Steve’ since I got back?”

 

“He's just teasing, love. He likes you.”

 

“No, he tolerates me because he loves you,” Bucky said with a laugh. “But he actually likes Peter, so I think he'll be okay with it.”

 

You nodded, unable to argue. “I guess you're right. He was ready to put you in the ground when he found out you got me pregnant and he thought I wasn't okay with it.”

 

“I don't think he'll threaten your nephew,” he assured you. “I bet he didn't threaten Steve either,” Bucky added dryly.

 

“He didn't have the chance,” you pointed out. 

 

“I know, baby, I was just teasing, I'm sorry,” Bucky apologized, giving you a squeeze.

 

“If we got pregnant again, I wonder if he'd still threaten you,” you mused with a quiet laugh. 

 

Bucky's hands on your back stilled. You felt the sudden stiffness in his posture and you sat up so you could look at him. 

 

“Are you just speaking hypothetically, doll, or…” he trailed off, a little afraid to ask the question.

 

You took a slow breath. “I'm not really sure,” you said honestly. “It's been on my mind since you brought it up yesterday. Then when Kate and Peter told us this morning… I haven't stopped thinking about it since.”

 

You watched Bucky's face and you knew he was carefully controlling his expression, not wanting to either say too much and shut you down or say too little and make you think he changed his mind.

 

“Look,” he began, taking your hand in his. “In case you had any doubt, I'm all for having another baby,” he told you firmly. “But I don't want you to feel like that's what it's gonna take to keep me happy. It's your decision, babe.”

 

You tilted your head and gave him a wry smile. “You know, that's almost exactly what Steve said. Then he told me I could just take my time and think about it.”

 

“Funny, that's exactly what I was gonna say next,” Bucky said with an amused half grin. 

 

“And I'm gonna tell you the same thing I told him, only it's even more true now; I'm pushing forty, Buck, if we wanna do this, we gotta do it now. We're running out of time for things like thinking,” you replied with another wry smile.

 

“Then I guess you have to make up your mind, love. Like you've told me many times, it's not my body that gets rearranged.”

 

You couldn't help but laugh. “Steve said that too, right before I told him we should just let the universe decide and see what happens.”

 

Bucky smiled. You could see the hope in his eyes that he was trying so hard to bite back in favor of not being disappointed. But he swallowed, looking you in the eye and holding his expression calm and steady.

 

“How ‘bout it, doll? Should we let the universe decide?” He ventured the question. 

 

You chewed at your lip while you thought, trying to figure out if that's really what you wanted, or if it was even possible to let fate decide if you gave him a green light. You gave a weak chuckle.

 

“I'll be honest, babe, I feel like if I say ‘okay’, to you that's the same as saying ‘put a baby in me’, and you're not gonna stop until you do,” you voiced. “There won't be anything ‘chance’ about it.”

 

Bucky gave you a knowing smile, reaching up to brush your hair back. “You know me too well, love. You're probably right.”

 

“If we say ‘let fate decide’, then we have to let it. We have to just forget about it and let the chips fall. Yeah, we can stop bothering with birth control, but that's it. We put it out of our minds and go on with life and see what happens. Can you do that?” You kept his gaze, eyes questioning and serious, wanting to make sure he understood that this was your condition. 

 

Bucky watched you closely, trying to decide if he was capable of truly just forgetting about it. He didn't want to ever make you feel like he wasn't respecting your wishes and he didn't want to lie to you. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. 

 

“I think I can, doll. I can't promise I'll never think about it. But if that's what you really want, then I'll do it,” he replied. 

 

You searched his eyes for a moment, trying to decide if you thought he could live with your stipulations. You reached out to cup his jaw and smiled. 

 

“Alright, then, Soldier. We can let the universe decide.”

 

Bucky tried to reign in the stupid grin that wanted to spread across his face, with little success. 

 

“Are you sure, love?” He asked quietly. “Please don't do this if it's not really what you want. Please be honest with me.”

 

“I am being honest, Bucky, I promise. It's okay. I'm okay with this,” you swore to him. 

 

He couldn't contain his excitement anymore and he surged forward, capturing your lips. He kissed you slow and sweet and full of joy before gently letting go. You saw that grin overtake him again and you grinned back. 

 

He bit his lip and his eyes darted down for a moment. “Just out of curiosity, once you and Steve decided to let fate take over, how long was it before you found out you were pregnant with Anthony?” He tried to play off his question as nonchalant, but you knew him better.

 

“Buck…” you cautioned. “C'mon, you're not off to a very good start.”

 

“I'm just asking,” he defended, giving you the tiniest hint of a pout.

 

You rolled your eyes. “It was about a year,” you answered, standing to put the glasses in the sink. You crossed back to the door and grabbed one of your bags, pulling a case from it. 

 

“Now, I'm gonna go pick a spot to paint some mountains,” you said as you rummaged through your other bag and pulled out a jacket. You crossed the room to grab an outdoor blanket from a basket near the fireplace. “And you're gonna stay here and make us dinner while you get your racing thoughts under control, or this is never going to work.”

 

You stood at the door, hand on you hip and gave him a very pointed look. “Understood?” You asked firmly.

 

Bucky sighed, but nodded his head. “Yeah, I get it, love. I'll find a way, I promise.”

 

Your face softened and you gave him a sympathetic look. “I know it's probably going to be hard for you, baby, but it's the only way it's gonna work for me. If you can't do it, then I'm gonna have to just say no.”

 

Bucky stood and crossed to you. He gripped your shoulders and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “I'll get it under control. Just give me a little time. And if I really can't, I promise I'll tell you and we can call it off. Okay?”

 

You nodded with a smile. “I trust you, Buck. I always have.”

 

“Just remember, we're here, celebrating our anniversary, no kids to worry about, alone on a mountain, for the next week. I can't promise I won't jump you every chance I get, but I'd like the record to reflect that I was going to do that anyway, whether we had this conversation or not,” he added with a suggestive smirk. 

 

“Consider it noted, Congressmen,” you said with a chuckle. 

 

***

 

The light was just about faded from the sky when you felt Bucky's hands on your shoulder. You looked up at him from where you sat by the lake shore and smiled. Bucky's gaze moved to the painting in your hands.

 

“It's beautiful, love,” he complimented. “We can hang it in that space by the coatrack when it's done, the one you were talking about the other day.”

 

“Yeah that's what I was thinking too,” you agreed. 

 

You hopped to your feet and starting packing up your supplies. Bucky grabbed the blanket once you were off of it, slinging it over his arm. 

 

“Dinner?” You asked as you followed him back to the cabin. 

 

Bucky nodded. “Go sit. I'll be right back,” he instructed, gesturing to a table on the far side of the deck. 

 

The table was set with a couple candles and a bottle of wine with two glasses. You sat and sipped from a glass while you waited for him, listening to the sounds of trees and the crepuscular animals that moved through them at this time of day.

 

Bucky appeared and placed a plate in front of you. “Paprikash,” he said with a grin.

 

You smiled back at him as he took a seat in front of his own plate. You took a bite and savoured the warmth in contrast to the chilly night air. 

 

“It's perfect,” you told him. “You've been practicing.”

 

“Yeah, well, whenever you're on assignment, it's what the kids ask for. It probably makes them think of you,” Bucky replied.

 

You ate in silence for a bit, listening to the forest, and honestly enjoying the quiet, even if it felt a bit out of place to be eating a meal without Murdock's constant questions and Anthony's interjections.

 

“I remember the first time you made this for me,” Bucky said quietly, his eyes reflecting the candle glow. “The night we got engaged.”

 

You just laughed and took a long sip of your wine. “That feels like a severe oversimplification of what went on that night.”

 

Bucky sat back, giving you that kind of shy smile that you secretly loved to pull out of him. “It rolls off the tongue easier than the long version.”

 

You laughed and pushed your chair back a little, curling your legs up under you. Bucky refilled your wine glass and passed out back to you. You continued to sip at it as the night continued to creep over the sky and you could see the first couple stars peeking out. 

 

“This place is perfect, love. I mean it. You couldn't have picked a better spot,” you said as you leaned back and watched the stars rise. 

 

“I'm glad you like it…” Bucky said as he watched you polish off your wine again and stare at the sky. “...Because it's ours.”

 

You rolled your head forward to look at him, frowning in confusion. “What?”

 

“It's ours, baby. It's your anniversary gift,” he explained. “I thought we should have a place we can go and really be away from the chaos. It was one of Stark's- that man had an absurd amount of houses- and Pepper offered it to us.”

 

You just stared at him, jaw hanging just a little.

 

Bucky watched you closely, filling your glass once more when you held it out.

 

“I guess I really will learn every inch of those mountains, then,” you said with a chuckle. 

 

“We'll have to make some changes, add walls so there's bedrooms for the kids, or even add on, I don't know,” Bucky said as he stroked his beard. 

 

“I'm sure Clint can help. He's good with that stuff,” you added. “But either way, this is the most amazing gift. You're the best, Barnes, you know that?” You asked as you tilted your head, watching him with half lidded eyes. 

 

Bucky chuckled. “I think the wine’s goin’ to your head, love.”

 

You groaned. “Kids really kill your tolerance,” you grumbled, draining the glass. You set it down, feeling warm and excited and all the tension leaving your limbs.

 

“I'm gonna go for a swim,” you announced as you stood from the table. You turned and headed back toward the lake. 

 

“What? Baby, that's not a good idea,” Bucky called, running after you. “That water’s really cold, love. Maybe not this time,” he encouraged, grabbing your arm. 

 

“Oh, I'll be fine,” you insisted. “I've literally had to swim through ice while being shot at. I can handle a dip in a mountain lake.”

 

You were standing at the water's edge, slowly peeling your clothing off and dropping them on the ground. Bucky watched, his jaw ticking the way it always did when he was irritated by his inability to change your mind.

 

“If you're so worried, come with me,” you encouraged, turning over your shoulder to give him a wink.

 

Bucky watched your naked body sway in the barely perceptible starlight and he couldn't help the things it was doing to him, even if he was still worried you were about to give yourself hypothermia. He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, before reaching back to grab the neck of his shirt and pulling it over his head to drop to the ground next to yours.

 

The low light scattered across his metal arm, making your heart flutter and you bit your lip. “Atta boy, Soldier,” you praised, and then you dove into the frigid water. 

 

Bucky yelped, quickly shedding the rest of his clothes and dove in after you.

 

“Oh! That's brisk!” You declared as you came up from the water, gulping air. “Holy- shit, that's cold!”

 

Bucky swam over and wrapped himself around you. “I told you, love. This isn't a good idea. Can we go inside now?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, you were right,” you said through chattering teeth. 

 

Bucky tried to stifle a chuckle as he picked you up, walking back out of the water, and carrying you inside. He set you on the fluffy rug in front of the fireplace and wrapped the thickest blanket he saw around your shivering body. 

 

“Stay here,” he instructed before going to start a fire. 

 

“Yeah, I don't think that's a problem. I can't feel my legs,” you said as you shivered and gripped the blanket.

 

Bucky lit the fire and stood back, watching the flames grow. He sat next to you, pulling your blanket back momentarily, causing you to whine. 

 

“You need my body heat, doll, it'll warm you up faster,” he explained as he lifted you into his lap and wrapped the blanket back around both of you. 

 

“I'm aware of how to combat hypothermia, Barnes,” you tried to counter, through gritted teeth, but you sunk into his warm arms, connecting every inch of skin you could, like he was a lifeline.

 

“You didn't have to jump in a lake to get me to cuddle you naked, you know, you could have just asked,” Bucky teased as you coiled yourself around him like a snake.

 

“Keep it up and see what happens, Bucky” you snarked. “I dare you.”

 

“Oh, I think I wanna take that dare, doll. No matter what happens, I'm pretty sure it'll be fun,” he continued to goad you. 

 

You narrowed your eyes and moved to get off his lap, but he locked you in a vice grip. “No you don't. You're still shivering.”

 

You gave him an unamused look but you stayed put, still clinging to him, despite your annoyance. 

 

“Just let me warm you up, love,” he said, starting to run his jaw along your shoulder, his beard leaving just the slightest burn. “Then you can storm off and pretend to be mad at me some more, if you want.”

 

You intended to make a snarky retort, but anything you wanted to say turned into a whimpered sigh when his lips connected with your pulse point and you felt a jolt in your core. His lips and tongue continued traveling, running up your throat and you threw your head back to give him more access. His hands grabbed your waist and torqued your body so you were chest to chest before they moved lower and grabbed your thighs, guiding them to either side of his hips. His lips reached your chin and you tilted your head back down so he could claim your lips. 

 

“You warmin’ up?” He asked. 

 

You bit your lip and grinned. “Gettin’ there.”

 

Bucky connected his lips to yours again as he threw back the blanket and slowly laid back, taking you with him. The kiss broke once he was flat on the rug, you kneeling above him. With his grip on your thighs, he walked you up his body until your knees were on either side of his head, eyes never leaving yours as his hands moved to your hips and encouraged your core down his mouth. He licked a stripe up your folds, parting them with his tongue and you cried out, your hands fisting the rug in front of you.

 

Bucky's hands grabbed greedily at your ass, digging into the flesh as he held you against him and you writhed and moaned. His tongue mercilessly assaulted your clit and you rocked against his face, chasing that high that fast approached. 

 

“God, you’re good at that,” you moaned as he tongue entered you, the thick muscle stroking your walls and diving in as deep as it could go before returning to your sensitive bundle of nerves.

 

You rocked and cried above him, legs starting to shake.

 

“Oh, baby, right there!” You shouted, grinding down and a moment later you came, moaning his name and panting. Your hips came to a halt and you moved back down, giving him space to breathe. You looked down at his face, beard glistening with your slick and you couldn't help the whimper that rose in your throat. 

 

Bucky gave a dark chuckle as he sat up, eyes never leaving you. “You like soaking my beard, doll, I know,” he said as he wiped his face with the back of his hand. “Good thing I like it too.”

 

He grabbed you and rolled you underneath him, making you yelp with surprise and laugh. He hooked your legs around his waist and slid into you with practiced ease. You bit your lip and dug your heels into his back. 

 

“Put a baby in me, Soldier,” you breathed.

 

Bucky faltered for a moment but he saw the glassy unfocused look in your eyes and he smiled. 

 

“That's just the wine talkin’, sweetheart,” he said as he laid kisses over your cheeks and nose. “You're still on your birth control.” He slanted his mouth over yours and kissed you deep. “But I'll still fuck you senseless, don't worry.”

 

And he did exactly that, thrusting into you with abandon, driving you practically off the ground as you clung to his shoulders. Moans and expletives and cries of his name we're spilling out of you like a broken dam. You writhed and arched into him as he worked you towards bliss until finally you came apart at the seams with a loud scream of his name.

 

He worked you through your high, hips stuttered until he came, just as hard, groaning as he spilled inside you. He slowly came to a stop and dropped his head, kissing you hard. 

 

You stayed like that, locked together for several minutes as your breathing evened out and he peppered featherlight kisses over your face and neck.

 

“I can't decide if you're fun when you're wine drunk, or if I need to keep you on a tight leash so you don't try to drown in a freezing lake again,” Bucky said with a chuckle.

 

“I'm always fun,” you said with a grin, lifting up to give him a sloppy kiss. 

 

“You're always fun, love,” he assured you. “Just please stay inside tonight.”

 

He reached back and untangled your legs, separating you and rolling to lay beside you.

 

“We should get you to bed,” he said softly as he stroked your arm. 

 

“Mhm,” you agreed as your eyes struggled to stay open. 

 

Bucky watched you smiling as you fought not to doze off. He got to his feet and reached down to scoop you into his arms. You were asleep before he got to the top of the stairs. He tucked you into bed and slid in behind you, wrapping his arm around you protectively, before joining you in sleep. 

 

***

 

You woke up to sunlight flooding over you, the room illuminated by the windows that framed the open space. Bucky was still softly snoring behind you, so you carefully slipped from the bed.

 

You felt surprisingly awake and well rested and you made your way over to grab your bag then hopped in the shower. You came out, wrapped in a towel, and Bucky was just sitting up in bed.

 

“Morning, love,” he said with a stretch. “How are you feeling?”

 

“I feel fine, actually,” you replied as you continued to dig through your bags. You stopped and put your hands on your hips, frowning.

 

“What? Did I forget something” Bucky asked as he swung his legs over the bed. 

 

“I can't find my birth control. I swore I threw it in my bag,” you said, tapping your chin thoughtfully and looking in your bag one last time. 

 

You shrugged. “I guess it doesn't really matter. I was going to wait until we got home to stop, but, oh, well,” you concluded.

 

You dropped your towel and started getting dressed. And Bucky licked his lips as he watched you. 

 

“Are you sure? I have condoms in my bag. It doesn't have to be right now,” he offered. 

 

“It's fine, Buck,” you assured him, wiggling your pants over your hips and smirking to yourself as you caught the look on his face. 

 

“Alright,” he nodded, smiling. He picked up his phone to check the time and a notification popped up. 

 

“Uh, I think I know where your pills are, babe,” he said quietly. 

 

“Oh?” You turned back to look at him as you braided your hair. 

 

“Yeah, we never picked up the refill. They're at the pharmacy. I just got a notice they've been ready for a week,” Bucky explained. 

 

You paused, your unfinished braid falling. “... Which means I should have started the new pack a week ago… which means I've already been off it for a week.”

 

“It takes awhile for your body to readjust, right? It's probably not a big deal,” he tried to soothe you. 

 

“Yeah, it does, you're right,” you agreed, shaking your head to clear the shock. You straightened and cleared your throat. “It doesn't matter. It's fine,” you concluded. “I said we should put it in the hands of fate and forget it. This definitely counts as forgetting.”

 

Bucky laughed. “That's a fair point.”

 

“With the way I can't ever seem to keep track of my birth control, it's a goddamned miracle we don't already have eight kids,” you said with a laugh, putting your hand to your head. 

 

Bucky laughed right along with you as he fastened his pants. “Eight’s a nice round number,” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows when you snapped your head up to look at him. 

 

“I was joking, Barnes,” you said adamantly. 

 

He laughed and gave you an apologetic smile as he took your hair from your hands and fixed your braid. “I know, baby, don't worry.”

 

“If we do end up within another one,” you said, making sure he heard you. “That will be the last. No room for discussion,” you said with as much finality as you could muster. 

 

Bucky knew you meant it, but he couldn't help but tease. “That's what you said last time, doll.”

 

You sighed. “Yeah, I know,” you admitted. “So this time I'll have my tubes tied.”

 

Again, Bucky couldn't help but tease. He turned to face you, that smile that made your knees give out plastered across his perfect face and then he gave you a pout.

 

“Aw, c'mon, doll, I bet I could change your mind…” he drawled and you consciously told yourself to close your mouth and steeled your senses.

 

“I bet you could,” you groaned. “Which is why I'm not gonna give you the chance.”

 

Bucky laughed and pulled you into a hug. “I'm teasing, love, don't worry. If we have another, it'll be our last. I know, I know,” he assured you.

 

You groaned in irritation. “Remember when I threatened to castrate you…”

 

Bucky laughed again, but a little less enthusiastically. “You've made your point, baby. No matter what happens, one more is it. Understood.”

 

***

 

“Mommy! Daddy!” Both your children squealed when they saw you and Bucky enter the living room.

 

Tony hopped down from Kate's lap and ran to you. You picked him up, hugging him right. “Hi, little love, I missed you,” you told him as you kissed his head.

 

“Where did you and Daddy go?” He asked. 

 

“We went to the mountains. We'll take you to see it soon, how does that sound?” You answered. 

 

His little eyes lit up. “Okay!”

 

You watched Murdock and Bucky greet each other, bringing their left arms up to bump forearms and competing for best stare to see who would break first. Bucky always laughed and told Murdock she was too intimidating, letting her win before he grabbed her and lifted her up for a hug.

 

“My turn,” Tony said, reaching his arms out for his dad. 

 

Bucky grinned, pretending to drop Murdock and she shrieked with a laugh, before he caught her at the last second and set her gently on the ground.

 

“Hey, pal,” he said as he took your son from you. “Did you have fun with Kate and Peter?”

 

“We showed them my dad's suit at the museum,” Tony answered proudly. 

 

“Auntie Kate has a baby in her belly!” Murdock declared running over to Kate and pressing her ear to Kate's belly. 

 

“She's been doing this all week,” Kate said with a laugh as she watched the little girl, trying to listen to her baby. 

 

You and Bucky looked at each other and laughed. 

 

“It's because she used to watch Bucky do it when I was pregnant with Anthony,” you explained. “He could hear the heartbeat.”

 

“I can't hear it,” Murdock said, huffing in defeat.

 

“You won't be able to, baby girl, I'm sorry,” Bucky said. “I have… abilities, so I can hear things other people can't.”

 

“Like Uncle Peter? He's strong,” Tony added.

 

Bucky sighed. “Yeah, pal, like Uncle Peter.”

 

“Alright, time to get ready for bed, littles. Say goodbye to your aunt and uncle. And what do you tell them for spending all week playing with you?” You encouraged your kids.

 

They took turns thanking and hugging Kate and Peter before running upstairs, laughing and arguing along the way. You turned back to the adults and watched Kate slump against the couch. 

 

“I am exhausted,” she declared with a chuckle.

 

“You can sleep on the way home, honey,” Peter offered, pulling her to her feet. 

 

Bucky helped Peter gather their bags and load the car. You followed them out to say goodbye. 

 

“Did you tell Hawk yet?” You asked as you hugged Kate.

 

“We called them yesterday,” she replied. 

 

“How did that go?” You questioned with a slight grimace. 

 

“Surprisingly, well,” Kate replied. “He only threatened to turn Peter into fertilizer once.”

 

You gave a small shrug. “For Clint that's not bad,” you agreed. 

 

“Laura's throwing us a shower next month,” Kate shared, looking down at her belly. “I'll definitely be showing by then.”

 

You smiled. “Get lots of rest. Let Peter do everything. He can certainly handle it. Call if you need anything.”

 

She smiled as she walked to the car, signed that she loved you, and you signed it back. Peter opened the door for her and closed it once she was in, running around to the driver's side.

 

“By, bug,” you shouted. He looked up, distracted and a bit frazzled. You laughed, signing that you loved him. He gave you a distracted half smile and signed back before getting in and driving off.

 

“He's gonna drive her nuts by the time that baby comes,” Bucky said as he watched them go.

Chapter 32: New Adventures and Avengers

“Well, that didn't take long,” you muttered to yourself as you stared down at the two pink lines on the test on your bathroom counter. 

 

You ran your hand down your face, trying to clear the initial shock and figure out what was underneath it. You heard Bucky calling you from outside the door. 

 

“Buck, is it just you?” You called back. 

 

“Yeah, babe. Laura and Lila put the kids to work setting up for the party,” Bucky answered and you could hear he was right outside the door now.

 

You took a deep breath. “You can come in,” you told him, standing back from the counter and wrapping your arms around yourself. 

 

You heard the door knob click and Bucky quietly entered, your eyes staying on the countertop.

 

“Are you still not feeling great?” He asked as he approached. 

 

Before you could respond, his eyes followed yours landing on the test. He froze. His eyes darted between you and the countertop a couple times, watching you chew at your lip and fidget with your fingers. He took another cautious step forward so he could see the test and read the result. 

 

“You're pregnant,” he said quietly, fighting to keep his expression steady, but his lips couldn't help but curl at the ends.

 

You finally tore your face away from the counter and looked at him. You watched him struggling to temper his excitement, waiting for your reaction to inform his own. You took another steadying breath and let your arms fall. 

 

“I'm pregnant,” you confirmed, a hint of a smile ghosting your expression. 

 

Bucky broke, unable to contain it anymore. “Oh, my God, baby, you're pregnant,” he said through a laugh and he wrapped his arms around you, lifting you off the ground into a crushing hug.

 

You held on to him tightly, as he laughed and buried his face in your hair. 

 

“Buck, I'm still nauseous. Put me down,” you said, but he could hear the smile in your voice.

 

He did as you asked, but kept his arms locked around your waist, holding you close. His smile was infectious as he beamed down at you and you couldn't help but smile back. 

 

“How are you feeling?” He asked softly. “Other than nauseated,” he added with a sympathetic look. 

 

You gnawed at your cheek. “I'm not exactly sure yet,” you admitted. “I really wasn't expecting it so soon. Maybe Tony was right about your ‘super swimmers’,” you said with a dry chuckle. “Right now, I think I'm still in shock.”

 

Bucky nodded cautiously, being careful once again to reign in his excitement so he didn't overwhelm you. “That's okay, baby. Just take your time and let it settle in.” He moved his hands to hold your face and his expression became determined. “And if you decide you don't want to do this, then you have to tell me, okay? I'm not willing to risk our marriage, to lose you over this,” he assured you with sincerity.

 

You tilted your head and felt overwhelmed by how much this man really loved you. Part of that was the hormones, you were aware, but you were choosing to ignore it. 

 

“God damnit, I love you, Bucky Barnes,” you said with a giggle and you rocked up on the balls of your feet to kiss him. 

 

“I love you too, doll,” he echoed when you pulled away.

 

You smiled and left the bathroom, heading back to your bedroom to try and find something to wear for Kate and Peter’s shower that began in s few hours. Bucky watched you get all but swallowed up but the closet as you dug around, searching. 

 

“I miss my walkin closet,” you grumbled. 

 

Bucky laughed as he sat on the bed watching you. “I'm sorry, babe. If it makes you feel better, Anthony's room isn't much bigger than a closet, since that's what it used to be.”

 

“Which is fine, since we don't live here full time anymore,” you pointed out. “Although,” you added, as you emerged from the closet with a box. “Now that there's another one coming, they're going to have to share anyway. There's no more room for Clint to build out.”

 

Bucky's heart jumped a little, hearing you talk about the baby like it was already a sure thing, but he managed to control his expression. He took the box from you and set it on the bed. You opened it and began pulling out clothes. 

 

“My old maternity clothes from when I was pregnant with Tony,” you explained. “I told Kate I would dig them out for her. But maybe I better keep them,” you added quietly.

 

Bucky rested his hand on your back. “Just give them to Kate, babe,” he suggested. “If we need more, we'll get more. We don't need to explain to her why you need to keep them when you're still undecided. We'll tell our family if and when you make up your mind.”

 

You gave him an appreciative smile. 

 

“Can you bring the box next door? I'm gonna try and find something to wear that I can actually zip up,” you huffed. “I swear, the struggle to zip my jeans starts sooner every time.”

 

Bucky laughed. “Just wear a dress, baby,” he suggested. “You always complain about the ‘damn Midwestern humidity’ when you wear jeans anyway.”

 

Bucky grabbed the box and started for the door, but you caught his arm. “Just to be clear, we're not telling anyone right now, okay?”

 

Bucky smiled. “Of course, love.”

 

***

 

You leaned back against the porch rail as you looked out at the yard that was currently buzzing with people and laughter. Kate and Peter were in chairs by a big table, opening gifts while your friends and family watched on. 

 

“That poor kid looks like he hasn't gotten a good night's sleep in weeks and the baby's not even here yet,” Sam said with a chuckle as he came to stand behind you.

 

You smiled. “Yeah, he definitely needs to relax. Kate might lose it on him if he doesn't,” you agreed with a soft chuckle. 

 

Sam nodded and offered you a beer as he grabbed one from the cooler at his feet. You reached out, suddenly remembered you couldn't, and quickly retracted your hand. 

 

“Uh, no, thanks,” you said with as casual a tone as you could manage. 

 

Sam closed the cooler and stood back up, eyes on you the whole time, face scowling. “Oh, shit, not you too,” he said with an exaggerated whine.

 

Your eyes went wide and you shook your head vehemently, putting a finger to your lips. “Shh, Sam, keep your voice down. We're not telling people yet.”

 

Sam was shaking his head and trying to contain the laughter that shook his shoulders. “Man, you guys are crazy. I thought you threatened to snip his manhood if he even thought about knocking you up again?” he whispered.

 

You sighed and rubbed your temples. “Yeah. Yeah, I did,” you confirmed.

 

“But you just can't resist that look on his face when he gives you one of his icy glares of irritation, hmm?” Sam suggested with a snicker. 

 

“You've made your point, Wilson. You can stop now,” you said with an unamused look.

 

“Seriously, though; congrats. If you guys are happy, I'm happy for you,” Sam said with a sincere smile, pulling you into a side hug.

 

“Thanks, Sam,” you replied, hugging him back. “But I'm serious; zip your lip. We're not sharing right now, for a lot of reasons, but especially not today. Today is about Peter and Kate.”

 

“Alright, understood, Kes,” he said, making a zipping motion with his fingers over his mouth. “They won't hear it from me.”

 

You rolled your eyes, but smiled as you walked down the stairs. “I told you before, only Hawkeye can call me that.”

 

You wound your way through the throng of conversing people, stopping to chat and hug and smile with them as you went. You looked out over the crowd and you could see near the fence there was a kickball game going with all the kids. Bucky, Clint, and Wanda were playing too, and meditating, you assumed, since there were intermittent shouts of ‘no powers, that's cheating’ and ‘no, your dad can't hold you up so you can catch the ball, that's cheating’.

 

But past the ball game, past the fence, by the birch grove, you could just make out a figure standing alone, barely visible through the trees. You immediately knew who it was and your heart clenched. 

 

Before you could take a step, though, there was a hand on your shoulder. You looked back and Peter was there, giving you a weak smile. You smiled back, turning around and bringing him in for a hug. 

 

“How are you holding up, bug?” You asked as you let go. 

 

Peter’s eyes were nervously flitting around. “I don't know, Auntie. I'm just overwhelmed, I guess,” he shared. “Tell me it gets easier,” he said with a nervous laugh.

 

“It does, bug, I promise,” you assured him as you rubbed his back. "You should talk to Clint. He was younger like you when his first was born. I bet he understands what you're going through.”

 

Peter nervously laughed a little louder. “Yeah, except he threatened to chop me up and spread me in the garden if I didn't do right by Kate, so I don't know if admitting to him that I'm scared to death is wise.”

 

You offered an amused but apologetic look. “I know. He tries a little too hard. He threatened to murder Captain America. The man knows no limits when it comes to protecting the ones he loves. It's as endearing as it is annoying.”

 

You glanced out over by the tree line again. She was still there. You patted Peter on the back once more. 

 

“Just talk to him, Peter. It'll help,” you encouraged. “You gotta do something to calm the nerves or Kate is going to lock you out before this is over,” you pointed out.

 

Peter gave a sheepish grin and nodded. You gave him one last hug before heading off towards the lonely figure in the distance. 

 

***

 

“Ya po tebe skuchayu, sestrichka,” you heard Yelena saying as you slowly and quietly approached.

 

She reached out and gently touched Natasha's headstone and you felt your heart breaking. You heard Yelena softly sniffling. You reached out and very slowly took her hand, not wanting to startle her. She gripped your hand without turning around. 

 

“We all miss her. She was loved,” you assured her in a hushed tone. 

 

“Sometimes I cannot stop thinking about how unfair it is that everyone else got a second chance but she didn't,” Yelena all but whispered. 

 

You gave an understanding nod, knowing that feeling more than most.

 

“I struggled with the same thought,” you said, nodding towards Steve's headstone. “Still do, once in a while. Especially when Murdock is really missing him.”

 

“I wanted to be here for Kate, but it is too difficult. I feel like everyone here has moved on and found their place, and I am just… empty ,” she concluded.

 

You watched her, feeling simultaneously so heartbroken and so helpless. You knew what she meant. When your brother died and you lost Matt, you had been there. When Bucky died, you had nearly gone back there. And you knew there was little you could offer but to stand by her and make sure she wasn't alone while she learned to live through it. 

 

“You have a place here, Lena. We want you here,” you assured her. “But if you need to find a place for yourself, one that doesn't have ghosts, then I understand that. I had to do that once, too.”

 

Yelena finally turned to look at you, her face sunken. She gave a very weak smile that didn't touch her eyes. 

 

“I have an assignment,” she stated.

 

You hugged her tightly. “Be safe.”

 

She let go of your hand and turned to go, but Bucky was approaching and she paused.

 

“James,” she said with a nod. 

 

“Yelena,” he nodded back. “Did you give any more thought to what I asked?”

 

Yelena paused and folded her arms. “No, not really. I think it's kind of hypocritical for a former Soviet assassin to preach about moral gray areas, if I'm being honest.”

 

“She has to be stopped, Lena,” Bucky said earnestly. “Valentina is crossing lines and you know that.”

 

“So, stop her,” Yelena suggested. “You have the skills.”

 

“I don't do that anymore,” Bucky said, running a hand through his hair.

 

“Okay, well, good talk, James,” Yelena said, patting his back as she walked away.

 

You watched her go, feeling heavy and sad. Bucky put his arm around your waist. 

 

“How do I convince her to help? Without testimony like hers, Valentina will just keep going. What if she creates something worse than a super soldier or a hulk? ” Bucky asked quietly.

 

“You can't convince her, Bucky. You have to let her decide. She's struggling,” you replied.

 

“Maybe she's right. Maybe I just need to do what needs to be done,” Bucky concluded. 

 

***

 

You woke up uncomfortable, needing to pee for what felt like the hundredth time. You huffed and threw your legs over the bed with an irritated groan, slowly getting to your feet and shuffling to the bathroom.

 

When you returned you looked over and noticed Bucky's side of the bed was empty. You frowned. You checked your phone and it was nearly 6am.

 

You left the room, heading downstairs to check the kitchen, but the house was dark and quiet. You leaned back against the counter, rubbing your very pregnant belly, and checked your phone. You let out a frustrated cry, hand going to pinch your nose and immediately called your husband.

 

It rang a couple times before Bucky answered. 

 

“Hey, doll. What're ya doin up?” He asked.

 

“Well, I happened to notice my husband had mysteriously disappeared in the middle of the night and I found that concerning,” you deadpanned. “Buck, what the hell, why does my phone say you're somewhere in Indiana?”

 

“I couldn't just sit back and listen to a bunch of jackasses in suits talk anymore. I had to do something. I got a lead and it looks like Yelena might be walking into a trap. I couldn't wait,” Bucky explained. 

 

You hummed and chewed your lip. You couldn't argue with that. But, still, the timing was terrible. “I get it. And if Yelena needs help, I'm glad you went… but I'm getting some serious deja vu here, love… Do you plan on being back soon?”

 

You heard Bucky give a nervous laugh. “I know, baby, I'm sorry. I swear I don't do this on purpose. I'll be home as soon as I can. You're not due for another three weeks. It should be okay.”

 

“That's what we thought last time,” you reminded him. “Do you think I should see if Clint can at least come stay with me until you get back? In case you don't make it, so there's someone to stay with the kids?”

 

“I'll make it, baby, I swear,” Bucky said, his tone a little desperate, like he wanted to convince both of you.

 

You let out a frustrated groan as you sat in a kitchen chair. “Look, Barnes, I know that's your intention, but the reality is, I'm gonna have a baby, whether you're in the state or not, and neither of us can decide when that will be. I can't just bring our 9 and 3 year olds into the delivery room with me. I need to have a plan.”

 

Bucky sighed, knowing you were right. “Yeah, I guess you better call him,” he caved. “But, I promise you, I'm gonna be there. I'll get Strange to open a portal, if I have to.”

 

You laughed. “That's a great idea. Why didn't we think of that last time?”

 

***

 

“YN!” Bucky shouted, dodging debris and running toward you.

 

You were helping an injured woman get off the street and you turned just in time to see a chunk of concrete aimed for your head. Before it could land, Bucky's left arm was over you and the concrete shattered when it hit. His arm came down to wrap around you and he was herding you off the street and under a doorway.

 

“Are you hurt, doll?” Bucky was asking, frantic hands roaming your body to check for injuries and brushing dust from your clothes. He held your face, searching your eyes for signs of distress and rubbing his thumb over a cut on your cheek. 

 

“Bucky, I'm fine,” you insisted. "Remember when I used do this everyday? I can still take care of myself.”

 

Bucky decided he believed you and immediately his look became stern and accusatory. “Goddamnit, YN, what are you doing here?!” He cried, his hands instinctively cradling your belly. “It's not safe, for either of you!”

 

“You're here!” You shouted back. “It's not safe for you either! You can't just leave me and expect me to be okay with it, Bucky, what did you think I would do?!”

 

Bucky shook his head. “It doesn't matter, we just need to get you out of here.”

 

He grabbed your hand, eyes scanning the street for an exit. He saw Walker and Alexei helping people out of cars as debris continued to fall and chaos was everywhere.

 

“Fuck! There's nowhere to go,” he yelled in frustration. “How did you even get here?” He asked, frantically searching for options.

 

“I took your advice and had Stephen portal me,” you replied, scanning the area.

 

“And he thought it was a good idea to send my pregnant wife into this mess? I'm gonna re-break his hands when I see him, I swear to God,” Bucky yelled. 

 

“He didn't send me here. He sent me to Kate and Peter's and I took the train here. Don't blame him,” you replied.

 

You saw Yelena and you felt a jolt of panic.

 

A vast blackness was approaching and you felt your skin go cold. Bucky looked back at you, fear in his eyes. But you set your jaw. 

 

“Just go. Do whatever needs to be done. I'll stay here,” you told him.

 

He gave you a desperate look and kissed you hard, before running back out to help with a chunk of concrete that was threatening to crush his… teammates? Was that the right word? 

 

You watched the scene unfolding before you. People were streaming into the building behind you as the devouring blackness consumed the streets. You watched, frozen with horror, as Yelena slowly and calmly walked into that blackness.

 

And then she was gone.

 

You screamed, about to run after her, but Bucky caught you and dragged you backwards.

 

“You can't!” Bucky was yelling as he held you back.

 

He pulled you as far into the overhang as possible and pushed you down until you were sitting on the ground. 

 

“Stay here, please,” Bucky begged. 

 

You watched him return to his teammates and they were arguing about what to do. Alexei was in shock and trying to go after her. Walker was angry and spouting off. You didn't hear the outcome of the argument because your ears were ringing and all your mind could think was not again. 

 

Bucky approached you, kneeling down. “You gotta stay here, doll, please, I'm begging you. I'm gonna go after her, but I can't do that unless I know you'll stay here. I'll come back for you. Can you do that?”

 

You nodded. “Bring her back, Buck. I can't go through this again,” you said, your voice sounding distant and disconnected to your own ears.

 

Bucky just nodded, pulled you into his arms and kissed your forehead, before letting go.

 

He looked back and nodded to you, before he, Walker, Alexei, and Ava stepped into the blackness and disappeared. 

 

You sat completely still. An odd quiet was sweeping over New York that you'd never experienced before, not even during the blip. You closed your eyes and rested your head on the concrete, trying to do anything but count the minutes until he returned.

 

You felt a strange cold sensation, like everything was fading and you snapped your eyes open and picked your head up to look around.

 

You were no longer in the doorway, but standing on the street. You looked back and forth, trying to get your bearings, feeling anxious and disoriented. You turned your head to look up the street and what you saw made your blood cold.

 

It was you, a much younger you. You were holding Matt's hand, your brother and Peter in front of you. The boys said something to each other and ran up the street, passing you as they went. Your heart stopped at the image of your brother, alive and in front of you and you reached out for him, but it was too late.

 

You helplessly watch the scene unfold in horrifying detail as the first shots from above collided with the surrounding buildings, sending chunks of glass and marble and concrete in every direction. You watched the energy blast hit your brother and screamed. You turned and saw the car flying through the air as it struck you and Matt and you screamed again, closing your eyes and covering your ears.

 

Then it was quiet. You opened your eyes. You were back where you started, watching as you and Matt walked hand and hand and the boys giggled to each other. They ran by you again.

 

You moved, unwilling to watch that occur once more. You ran up the street, turning a corner, but were stopped when you hit a wall. You could hear the sounds of the screaming and destruction behind you and you cried out in frustration, picking up a nearby piece of pipe and you slammed it against the wall. 

 

To your surprise, it broke through and you pushed through the crumbling rock, desperate to get away from the horror behind you. 

 

Only to find yourself in a new one. 

 

Your mind struggled to make sense of the new scene in front of you. But this one you recognized immediately. The jagged rocks and low, purple lighting and biting wind. It was unmistakable. 

 

“Oh, God, no, not again,” you whispered as you looked up and saw another version of yourself standing near a cliff, clinging to Steve.

 

You looked away, squeezing your eyes shut and covering your ears again. “No, no no no,” you muttered, trying to ignore what you were being forced to remember. 

 

But it was no use and you heard yourself shouting his name, followed by a blood curdling scream. You screamed too and sank to the ground.

 

There was a moment of silence, and then the nightmare began again.

 

There was no way you were anywhere but your own personal hell, you thought as you sobbed.

 

***

 

You were listening to the horrifying memory replay for what felt like the thousandth time, when suddenly it was quiet. 

 

You finally opened your eyes again and found yourself back where you started, crouched in the corner of the doorway. You cautiously got up and walked out into the quiet street. You saw Bucky disappearing through a tarp over some scaffolding and you ran after him. 

 

“... the New Avengers!” You heard a female voice announce and then there was clapping.

 

You froze, peeking through the tarp to look at the scene on the other side. There were reporters and a podium. You recognized a press conference when you saw one. Bucky and the rest of the team were standing behind the women talking to the reporters and you breathed a sigh of relief when you saw Yelena. You waited out of view for things to end and everyone to disperse.

 

Yelena was still talking to Valentina, but Bucky saw you and ducked back under the tarp. He wrapped you in a strong hug and you felt a long breath escape his lips. 

 

“You're okay, baby,” he whispered. “I'm sure whatever you just went through was awful. But you're okay. I've got you.”

 

“Buck, what just happened?” You asked, mind still fuzzy and reeling. “And what was that about New Avengers?”

 

Bucky shook his head. “I'll tell you all about it, doll, but right now, we better find you a hospital.”

 

You furrowed your brow, confused. “No, I'm not hurt. I'm okay. Is Yelena okay?”

 

“She's fine, doll,” he assured you. “But…” he looked down at your legs and your eyes followed him. Your pants had an enormous wet spot and you suddenly realized you were having pain in your lower abdomen.

 

“Great,” you groaned, moving to hold your back. “We're like 250 miles from home.”

 

“Well, It's not my favorite idea,” Bucky said. “But I don't have a better one at the moment; I'll call Strange.”

 

***

 

“I haven't delivered a baby since med school. Are you sure you want me to do this?” Stephen asked as he watched you pace the room and occasionally groan in pain.

 

“You have a photographic memory,” you countered. “It's not like you forgot.”

 

Bucky came back into the room, holding a coffee and rubbing his eyes. He nodded at Stephen as he crossed to sit in the chair by your bed. 

 

“Alright, fair point,” Stephen agreed. “My next question is are you sure he's okay with me delivering your baby?” Stephen asked, jerking a thumb in Bucky's direction. 

 

“I called you, didn't I?” Bucky pointed out as he sipped his coffee and rolled his shoulders, trying to fight the exhaustion. 

 

Stephen gave him a curt smile. “Alright, then all we can do at this point is wait. At the rate you're progressing, it's probably not going to be too long.”

 

Bucky nodded. “I called Peter. They should be here soon.”

 

“Oh, good,” you said as you breathed through a contraction. “What did Hawk say?”

 

Bucky chuckled. “That you're an old pro at this point and he and Laura will see you and the baby when you get home. He took Murdock and Anthony back to the farm.”

 

You nodded. “Just as well. Too many people just makes it stressful.”

 

You sat back on the bed, attempting to get comfortable, when a particularly bad contraction hit and you yelled.

 

Stephen looked at his watch. “Okay, I guess she's decided she wants to come sooner rather than later,” he said with a wry chuckle.

 

***

 

“You sure do know how to make beautiful baby girls,” you told Bucky with a smile as you held your newborn daughter, watching her sleep.

 

“I think she looks a lot like you, doll,” Bucky countered, gently stroking her head. “Which is why she's so gorgeous.”

 

You laughed and rolled your eyes. “Again with the lines, Barnes.”

 

“I told you, babe. It's not a line,” he insisted, kissing your head before he sat back against the chair. “You're beautiful, and so is our daughter.”

 

You gave him an appreciative smile. There was a knock at the door and you looked up. Yelena was peeking her head in, someone you didn't recognize in tow.

 

“Come on in, Yelena,” you said softly, not wanting to wake your infant. 

 

She crossed the room to you, an excited grin on her face.

 

“Oh, she is so precious,” Yelena cooed, leaning over you to look at the baby. “He makes beautiful babies for someone so grumpy,” she remarked with a laugh, nodding at Bucky.

 

Bucky gave her an unimpressed look. “So glad you could make it, Lena,” he replied dryly. 

 

You handed the baby to Yelena when she reached her arms out and she stood, rocking and bouncing as she softly spoke to her. You looked passed Yelena to the stranger that was standing awkwardly near the door, arms tucked behind his back with a goofy kind of grin on his face.

 

“This is Bob,” Bucky informed you. “Bob, this is my wife, YN.”

 

“Hi,” Bob said, waving to you. 

 

“Yes, sorry, I should have told you he was coming,” Yelena apologized. “He sticks with us now,” she added with a smile. 

 

Bob cautiously approached Yelena and looked over her shoulder at the baby. 

 

“And who's this?” He asked quietly, smiling at her. 

 

“That is Natasha Zephyr,” you replied with a wide but slightly sad smile.

 

Yelena snapped her head up and looked between you and Bucky. 

 

“You named her after my sister?” She said just above a whisper. 

 

Bucky gave her a sad smile of his own. “She was our family, too, Lena,” he said softly. “She always will be.”

 

You could see tears brimming Yelena’s eyes and she smiled back at you. But she quickly blinked them away and turned to Bob. 

 

“Would you like to hold her?” She asked.

 

Bucky shifted in his chair, ready to stand and retrieve his daughter, but you put your hand on his arm. “It's okay,” you whispered. “She'll be fine.”

 

You both watched as Yelena transferred the baby to Bob’s arms and he held her like he was both unsure what to do and he thought she might break. But the genuine joy on his face was unmistakable. 

 

“She's so cute,” he whispered, grinning down at the infant, before turning back to look at you and Bucky. “Yelena's right, Bucky, she's very adorable, even though you're so grumpy.”

 

You and Yelena both laughed and Bucky closed his eyes with a quiet groan and a curt smile. “Thanks, Bob,” he sighed.

 

***

 

“So, we're moving to New York?” Murdock asked you and Bucky. 

 

You had sat the kids down to talk to them about their dad's new job and the changes you were making. It was a lot to take in, since you also just brought home a newborn a couple months ago. You were worried the transition would be less than smooth. 

 

You nodded and Murdock smiled. 

 

“Back to where we lived before when Daddy was still alive?” Murdock asked 

 

“No, back to where your mom and I lived before you were born, actually,” Bucky clarified. 

 

“Oh,” Murdock said, nodding slowly. 

 

“Uncle Peter and Aunt Kate live in New York,” Tony added, making connections. “And baby Ben.”

 

“Exactly,” you affirmed. “We won't be far from them. We'll get to see them more often,” you added, hoping it would help alleviate any resistance to the idea.

 

“Plus, we'll live in the same building as Aunt Lena…” Bucky added and Murdock lit up. “... And Uncle Bob,” he added, looking at Tony.

 

Tony's eyes got wide and he squealed. “Okay, I'll go pack!” He declared and ran off to his room.

 

“Me too!” Murdock agreed and she followed suit 

 

Natasha started crying and you crossed the room to get her. Bucky got up to set up a pillow in the chair for you to feed her. 

 

“That went well,” you said, looking at Bucky as you nursed the baby.

 

“They're always up for adventures. I wasn't too worried,” Bucky replied.

 

“I can't stop thinking how… poetic… it is that we'll be back living at the tower again. Like everything's come full circle. It's kind of nuts, really,” you said with a light chuckle.

 

Bucky nodded in agreement. “We can even have either of our old apartments back. I told the crew we'd let them know.”

 

“We better decide then. Your place or mine, Soldier?” You asked with a grin.

 

“Up to you, doll,” He replied, handing you a cloth for the baby.

 

You laughed a little. You cocked your head and gave Bucky a smile, laced with nostalgia.

 

“Why don’t we pick a different one and it'll be our place,” you suggested. 

 

“How about we have them put in a staircase and we'll combine them, make it a two floor place and turn my old kitchen and living room into rooms for the kids,” Bucky suggested. 

 

“That's a great idea,” you agreed as you rocked Natasha to sleep. 

 

“Good, because that's what I told them to do,” Bucky said with a quiet laugh.

 

You sat quietly as Natasha fell asleep in your arms and you listened to the sounds of Murdock and Anthony playing upstairs. Slowly, your eyes slid shut and you dozed off. 

 

Bucky smiled as he watched and he rose to take the baby and set her gently in your cradle. He came back to drape a blanket over you and you smiled, your eyes still closed. 

 

“Just take a nap, love. I've got Natasha,” he assured you.

 

You yawned and turned to curl up in the chair. Humming contentedly as you relaxed. 

 

“I love you, Buck,” you whispered as you drifted off.

 

“I know, doll,” he said softly. “And I love you.”

Notes:

Thank you all for indulging my silly story. I may or may not add an epilogue. I really haven't decided. Let me know what you think. Comments make my day!