#Samwilson/Buckybarnes

[rufferto9]

Master Art Post for Hunt In the Congo

Star Spangled Bang

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43079913/chapters/108256320 Summary: The Falcon Captain America and Bucky Barnes receive word of a human trafficking ring in Rwanda. Investigating, they find a Hunger Games/Squid Games style hunt where the wealthy can murder those they wish and take the leftovers as merchandise for their use. Bucky swears this is all familiar to him, but cannot grasp the memories. Sam And Bucky, with the intern Peter Parker, must stop this ring once and for all 

Story Tags:  Bucky Barnes Needs a HugBucky Barnes RecoveringBucky Barnes Has PTSDHurt/ComfortHurt Bucky BarnesTorturePsychological TraumaBlood and ViolencePost-Canon           

Please check out this cool story by @scifiunicorn1​ ! I created a couple of pics for the Star Spangled Bang 2022 hidden below the tag as spoilers! But also... somewhat bdsm in nature.:) It was so much fun pushing myself out of my comfort zone a little bit.

Thank you for a great time! :):)

[missmarveledsblog]

SOMEONE OLDER ( TONY STARK X READER)

summary : when boys your age just don't do it for you but someone older does  .

warnings : age gap ( legal one before anyone is calling svu )  mutual pining , no pepper in this universe  

" nat I'm done dating the dude brought me to a strip club and gave me ones to tip the dancers " Y/n huffed walking into the main living room. " Jesus and I thought my dating life was bad " bucky snorted dodging the incoming pillow . " guys my age suck " she pouted sitting down beside the widow  placing her head on nats shoulder. " date me and we can live our best lives " nat smirked poking her side. " I would but bruce won't share " she rolled her eyes . " I'll deal with him " she chuckled .  " well you could always date me doll " bucky wiggled his brows . " i'm already in therapy  no thank you " she stuck her tongue out at the man . " well  i would of gave you fives for the club " he shrugged . " oh take me now " she fake swooned into the couch. " i mean i could rock your world doll " he stood walked towards her thinking he had the edge . " and i'd break you " she looked up making bucky freeze in his spot . "  i think you just did that " sam fell over laughing . " that's my girl " nat hugged her. " damn it she goes all doe eyes and says shit like that " he grumbled in his defeat. "  it's ok we can hit the club i might have a connection with one of the dancers at this rate " she sighed. " what about the crush "  sam looked around . " just a crush i mean not going to go anywhere other than that " she pouted. " can't believe you've the hots  for stark and not me " bucky teased . " i like older men,  not one from the great depression " she rolled her eyes . "  she a match for stark with that mouth of her " bucky chuckled .  " a lot this mouth could can do boy " she hopped up while nat laughed at the mens gaping mouths .  " see you later malyshka" nat called after her. " bye nat love you " she called back .  

she roamed around compound not really knowing what to do , i mean she had the choice of working out with steve but that was hard pass , maybe working on her computer in the lab would kill time .  she could see bruce and tony already working away on whatever, it's like the two lived in the confines of  that part of the  compound. " hey kiddo how was the date " bruce called . " bust like major bust " she groaned heading to her computer. " well i mean his name was chad " tony chuckled . " he brought me to a strip club, he out chadded any future chads " she rolled her eyes. " hey tony could you come with me i need your help " bruce smiled taking the billionaire gaze off the girl . " with what ?" tony head shot towards the fellow science bro . " snack run  can't carry it so come on , you want anything kiddo? " he asked. " oh cookies and chips please " she looked up excitedly. " coming up " tony smiled brightly. " course it is " bruce muttered . " why don't you make a move man even i can see you like her " bruce whispered as they walked down the hall . " she's too young  plus i mean who say she even likes me , she always around barnes " tony shrugged .  " she doesn't like me stark  " bucky made the two men jump at his sudden appearance . " yeah ok, you guys are always flirting " he rolled his eyes . " no i'm always flirting and she shooting me down with sarcastic comment it's our thing ,  i love her like a best friend  " he chuckled grabbing himself a plum as they began snack hunting . " still she same age as parker and he's called me dad way too many times " he grimaced. " maybe she can call you daddy " nat walked by   with a wink before  kissing bruce on the cheek.  " we don't even know if she likes me i've flirted with her and it does nothing " he said not feeling his usual cocking ego filled  self , a first for tony stark he was sure of that . " you flirt with everyone even F.R.I.D.A.Y " nat deadpanned . " hey honey feel like watching a movie" bruce kissed her cheek , hint of mischief in his words .   " i guess i'll bring the snacks to the lab " tony  picked them up . " hey here's a bottle of that tea stuff she like" nat threw it across the room . " thanks i guess " he walked out wondering would he actually make a move on not . again it was all new for tony he was used to women making the move throwing  themselves at him  yet here he was wondering how to make a move . He wondered if this was how tiny capsicle felt ? .

she sat so stuck in her work she barely noticed tony approaching  hands filled with snacks until the door opened. " where's banner " she tilt her head she was sure the two left together. " with his girlfriend , probably afraid your gonna steal her on him " he smirked handing her the cookies , chips and bottle of ice tea. " i will so he should be scared " she giggled . " so no luck on these dates ?" he knew it was ridiculous fishing around god he felt the kid . " most definitely not i think  i'm destined to be single , i mean guys my age just wanna hump and dump and that's cool but after a while you kinda want more " she sighed looking down at her cookie. " i get that , i mean sleeping around is great but when you're looking for more it's get boring " he nodded. " yeah except you sleep with actresses and models not same thing , like douchebag last night brought me to a strip club because he found out i was bisexual " she laughed dryly . " i'm still finding glitter and i've showered twice" she grimaced. " why not date someone older " he smiled softly. " i would if i could find anyone that took me serious , i mean again they treat you like kid i'm clearly smart and have a head on my shoulders , been taking care of myself since i was like 16 and yet they think i can't do shit for myself or after their money like" she groaned.  " well  it's official  the male species is doomed , i mean not to take such a beautiful smart intelligent woman like you and see how lucky they are, i really should of let loki take over " he smiled as she giggled. " thanks stank  know how to make a girl feel special" she smiled feeling slightly better well she would if the stupid brain of her would calm down as well as her heart rate.  " crazy yet brilliant thought ,  we go on a date , i mean your beautiful  and i'm  gorgeous , i take you serious most of the time and well i know your worth " he stood straight up looking as she slowly looked up at him . " you wanna date me, like as in you tony hot science iron man stark wants to date me " . " yeah i think i said as much " he chuckled. " when " she asked thinking she was asleep cause this was clearly a dream . " well how's tonight sound for you " he walked over leaning slightly over her desk before she shot up  and it came out before her brain even registered the audible glup . " she said yes " bucky called making the both of them jump . " what the fuck are you a cat " she held her chest. " nah but this was fun to watch , good on you stark " he smiled walking off. " i'm getting a bell for him " she laughed once the fright and shock wore off. "so  you'll go on date with me " he asked biting his lip . " i mean you did say i should date someone older " she kissed his cheek walking out of the lab calming once out of his sight she high balled it to nat help her get ready .  

[honeeysagee]

Too Hot To Think - WSCK

shopowner!Sam x mechinac!Bucky

part one

Sam was having a day. That's the only way he could describe it.

The hot sun was leaking through the windows and glass roofs of his greenhouse. The air conditioner, which he had fixed that morning, suddenly shut off again, and the small fan was doing nothing to keep Sam cool while he worked. He'd meant to go fishing this morning, but his fishing rod was missing and, to make matters worse, his truck needed gas.

Now, as he crouched among the rows of plants, sweat dripping from his brow, he could feel the frustration mounting. The tomatoes looked wilted despite his best efforts, and the stubborn weeds seemed to mock him as they sprouted back up almost as fast as he could pull them out. He longed for the peaceful escape of the lake, but instead, he was stuck battling the relentless heat and relentless weeds. Sam sighed, wondering if he'd ever get a break from the constant stream of minor disasters that seemed to plague his mornings.

His work phone rang. The worst phone to ring when he was having one of these days. Sam loved working, he did. Yet, he hated the idea of working in this heat. He thought to let it continue ringing, but the noise was also working on his nerves. So, reluctantly, he set aside his rake and picked up the receiver. “Hello,” Sam said cautiously. “Unfortunately, the Wilson's is closed and will remain that way all weekend."

The voice on the other end chuckled, and Sam knew instantly who it was. He'd grown very familiar with this person. "Hey, Buck," he said afterward, even giving him a nickname.

"Hey, Sam," Bucky replied, still chuckling. "I didn't know Wilson's closed on random weekends."

"It usually doesn't," Sam admitted with a sigh. "But I'm having a 'me weekend'. Or at least, I was supposed to, until my plans got canceled." He continued to mindlessly pick at the things in his greenhouse until he realized that a call from his employee was making him pace like a schoolgirl.

"Oh," Buck said, his voice dropping slightly. "That's too bad. I was looking forward to being bossed around by you today." There was a moment of charged silence, the kind that made Sam's heart race a little faster. He cleared his throat. "In this heat? You're insane." He wondered if it hid the weird tingling feeling in his throat and stomach. He prayed it did.

"Speaking of heat," Bucky let out a large sigh into the phone, "Is Louisiana usually this hot? I'm dying." Sam sat the phone down, placing it on speaker. Then, he spoke, "Yeah, that's why I wanted to be by the lake. Catching that cool breeze coming off the water is my favorite thing about fishing." Sam paused, remembering younger days when he and his father had taken the boat out for the day. Just to come back with half a cooler of fish and all their bait gone. It didn't matter to him - as long as he was doing something he loved with his dad.

Buck spoke, pulling Sam back to the present, "Why aren't you there again?" Sam felt himself flush under the attention. Instead, Sam felt as if he'd just been caught red-handed in something he should've kept secret from Bucky. "Oh, I can't find my fishing rod, and I ran out of gas," Sam mumbled into the phone. The admission felt took in his throat. Why was he suddenly so embarrassed to confess things to Bucky? The two of them have grown close to each other over 2 months, but he still felt like he had to impress Bucky.

"Well, your rod is in the back of my truck, remember? I'll be more than happy to bring it to you." A couple of weeks ago, they had planned an impromptu fishing trip after a long day of work. Sam had been so excited about it that he had tossed his rod into Bucky's truck the night before. But then, a last-minute emergency at Wilson's had kept them from going. They had laughed it off, promising to reschedule, but in the chaos, Sam had forgotten all about the rod.

Sam's heart skipped a beat. "You'd do that?" he asked, trying to keep his level, even going as far as to remind himself that he was a grown man. It wasn't just the usual camaraderie between friends. The smallest compliment from Bucky felt like a triumph, and the thought of disappointing him was unbearable. He remembered the way Bucky's eyes lit up when they joked around, the way his laughter sounded like music to Sam's ears. Was it weird to say about a friend?

"Of course," Bucky replied smoothly. "I'll bring the rod, and maybe we can fill up your truck and head to the lake together. What do you say?"

The suggestion sent a rush of excitement through Sam. He glanced around the greenhouse, at the wilting tomatoes and mocking weeds, and felt a glimmer of relief. "Yeah," he said, a smile spreading across his face. "I'd like that a lot, Buck."

Bucky laughed again. "Okay. See ya soon, Wilson."

The line went silent, and Sam placed the work phone back in his pocket. He stared at his greenhouse, the flush colors of green and yellow washing away the last of the light from the overhead fixtures. The heat was starting to affect his brain, making it feel fuzzy and distant. He couldn't concentrate properly anymore, so Sam decided to leave his work alone for a few hours. He gathered his tools, grabbed a bottle of water from his fridge, and headed inside.

He made sandwiches for him and Bucky. Then, he shuffled to his living room, taking deep breaths every moment. It didn't last long because the sound of a truck horn invaded the house. When he turned to look out his front window, he saw Bucky leaning against the truck, staring into the distance. The 6'6 mechanic looked so photogenic, that Sam forgot how annoyed he'd been about the summer heat. He had a nice smile and those deep blue eyes. Sam grabbed the bag of food and locked the house.

"Well, look who came to my rescue," Sam said, walking up to his friend. His voice wavered when he added, "Thanks." Bucky smiled at him, flashing perfect white teeth. His hand reached up to brush some stray hairs behind his ear, and his expression changed. Concern flitted across his features for only a second before the grin returned.

"Hope I didn't take you away from your day off."

Sam shook his head enthusiastically. "No, you're fine. It would be nice to hang out outside of work." "Sounds great to me." He followed Bucky back toward his car and climbed in after Bucky unlocked it. After a couple of minutes, Bucky leaned forward and cranked up the AC. "This feels better." Sam snorted as he buckled up his seatbelt. "If you hate the heat so much why are you wearing long sleeves?" he teased.

Bucky's eyes flickered to his arm, and Sam instantly wanted to rip the words out of the air and swallow them. He knew about Bucky's missing arm and what now took its place - a cold metal with was a hard reminder of a life he left behind. Sam offered found himself looking at the arm, thinking of the secretive life Bucky lived before coming to Delacroix. He wondered about the stories Bucky never told, the battles fought, and the losses endured. There was a part of him that longed to know more, to understand the depth of the man who had become so important in his life. He thought about the scars Bucky carried, both visible and hidden, and the weight of his past that he seemed to bear with quiet strength.

The drive to the lake was filled with the hum of the engine and the rhythmic whoosh of the AC, providing a comfortable background for their conversation. Sam settled into the passenger seat, feeling the cool air soothe his overheated skin. He glanced over at Bucky, who was focused on the road, his hands steady on the wheel.

Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting dappled patterns on Bucky’s face as they passed through tree-lined roads. Sam observed the way Bucky's brow furrowed slightly in concentration, the casual confidence in the way he handled the truck. There was a quiet strength in Bucky's presence that always made Sam feel at ease.

"So, your buddy, Steve, he just up and left?" Sam gets comfortable with asking about Bucky's past. He, himself, was an open book. Bucky, on the other hand, was quite guarded. Although Sam liked to tease him, it was clear that he didn't have anything to hide. So if there was one thing that he could tell from observing the man closely over these months, it was that Bucky was a private individual. And even if they were friends, Sam didn't want to intrude. So for now, he just enjoyed spending time with him.

"No, not really. He was gone before he left. His mind went wandering, and one day, he just followed." Bucky answered casually. Sam nodded, but something bit at him. Nothing came of it as they pulled into a small deck. Bucky was the first to leave the truck, walking to the back of it. Sam was next with his eyes on the lake's horizon line. "This is a good spot," He threw the statement behind him and at Bucky, "Used to fish here every day in high school."

Bucky came up behind him, a smile warming his face. "Were you any good?" Sam chuckled, "Did catch one. Never have unless my old man was with me." Bucky cocked his head to the side and looked back at the water. Sam picked up his rod from the ground and walked towards it. The water was calm and clear. As soon as he sat down, his knees brushed against the soft grass surrounding the dock. He cast his line into the water.

"I can be your lucky charm." Bucky joked before running past him, catching Sam completely by surprise. Bucky's feet were in the air before Sam could stop him. He caught a glimpse of silver before Bucky dived head-first into the lake. He heard the splash of the water hitting the bottom, the faintest splash as Bucky came up. For a minute, Sam just stood there staring, his face reflecting his shock.

There, where Bucky's arm should be, was a metal one. It was smooth and shiny, like a metal sculpture. Sam's eyes were instantly drawn to it, mesmerized by its sleek and intricate design. The arm gleamed in the sunlight, every curve and joint a testament to advanced engineering. It seemed almost otherworldly, a perfect blend of form and function. The metal caught the light in a way that made it appear almost alive, a striking contrast to the natural beauty around them. Sam couldn't tear his eyes away, captivated by the strength and elegance of the arm, by the power it held.

A moment later, Bucky pulled his hair back from his face and smiled. "I ran all the fish your way," he called out. Sam turned, blinking rapidly and trying to focus on the conversation, to get his mind back on track. When he turned back, he saw that Bucky had moved closer. The other man was smiling, attempting to push the waters and make it near Sam.

As he stepped closer, Sam noticed the look of concern in Bucky's gaze. Sam tried to read it but, despite Bucky's efforts, he couldn't make sense of it. Whatever it was, however, Bucky's eyes shifted suddenly away to the arm. No one spoke, but the air was full of tension.

"Um, I…" A strange look crossed Bucky's face. He swallowed. Sam waited for him to continue, and he watched as Bucky's mouth worked, forming words but never getting them past his lips. Finally, he sighed loudly and lowered his eyes. "It's weird," he muttered quietly. "Now, you know why I wear the long sleeves and gloves."

Sam felt his throat tighten, but he managed to shake his head. He didn't see his prosthetic as weird. He was no longer looking at the arm because he was more focused on the body Bucky kept concealed. He studied the muscles shifting under the turtleneck, the sharp edges poking from the fabric like little spikes. Sam was sure his arms must look bad compared to Bucky's. Sam tried to keep his thoughts on something else, tried to push back the feelings building in his chest. Instead, he chose his words carefully.

"It's not weird. I think it's cool." His voice was hushed, almost unsure of his own opinions. His heart rate increased. Sam mentally slapped himself, feeling stupid as the silence stretched on. Suddenly, Bucky was laughing. Sam frowned quickly, confused and anxious. Bucky wasn't laughing because of his response to Sam's comment, which was expected. Sam saw amusement dancing in Bucky's eyes, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Sam narrowed his eyes, still watching Bucky warily. "What?"

"Nothing," Bucky waved him off, still chuckling a little bit. "Nothing at all, Wilson." He paused again and then looked up. "No one has ever told me my arm was 'cool'. Kinda funny." He shrugged. When Sam remained silent Bucky continued, "But thank you. Now, you know all my secrets."

They stared at each other for a second. Sam swallowed. The intensity of his stare didn't go unnoticed by Bucky. He blinked slowly and gave him a shy smile, the one that always melted within Sam. He cleared his throat, his cheeks burning as he averted his eyes from Bucky. "What you thinking about, Wilson?" Bucky asked, pulling himself out of the water and onto the deck.

As Bucky emerged from the lake, water streamed off his body, shimmering in the sunlight. The droplets fell back into the lake, creating a series of ripples that expanded outward. The surface of the water, previously calm and undisturbed, now danced with the motion of Bucky's movements. Each ripple caught the light, glistening like a thousand tiny diamonds scattered across the lake's surface. The water clung to Bucky's metal arm, highlighting its contours and adding a dynamic, almost magical quality to the scene. As he sat there, the water continued to drip from him, merging with the lake in a gentle, rhythmic pattern, the sound a soft accompaniment to the serene environment around them.

"It's too hot to think, Barnes."

Sam looked over and found Bucky sitting by the railing, his eyes fixed on Sam. Sam let out a breath and shook his head, trying to find some balance. "I think you scared the fish." He stated. Bucky laughed and took a few deep breaths before standing. The smile remained plastered across his face and Sam's stomach fluttered when he caught the sight of a small trail of droplets dripping downwards from Bucky's shoulder.

He shook his head once more, his heart hammering in his chest. They'd just come to the lake to spend some time together, but already he felt like he was floating, floating away from himself, away from everything, from everyone. It hadn't happened often in Sam's life, but whenever it did, a strange sort of longing began to fill him. Something inside him wanted to escape. Something was calling him to follow its beckoning. Sam tried to shake himself free of the desire to follow whatever it was.

"Well, I guess we have to catch them by hand." Bucky grabbed Sam's hand, the cool metal caused a wave of calmness through his body. He looked up at his friend before realizing he was falling back into the water. Sam tried to let go, but Bucky was holding on tight. The moment he hit the lake, coolness enveloped him, the sensation both shocking and refreshing. He felt the resistance of the water as he plunged deeper, bubbles rising around him in a chaotic dance. Sam gasped as he broke the surface of the lake, his breathing hard. Bucky followed soon after, his lungs protesting, but he fought his urge to cough. Instead, he grinned and swam toward Sam.

He lifted his hand above the water to reveal he was holding a fish. It wiggled in his hands, trying to take flight, but Bucky only held it tighter. Both men stood there in bewilderment. Sam watched his employee grip a fish with widened eyes and a dumbfounded expression on his face. His cheeks were red from the water, his blue eyes shining with excitement. Sam couldn't help but laugh. Bucky finally looked up and met Sam's gaze. "What?" He questioned, a slight pout playing at his lips.

Sam shook his head. "Nothing." Bucky, after letting the fish back into the lake, turned to look at Sam. He started swimming closer to the dock. Sam followed closely behind, making sure to stay close enough to keep up. "Sorry, for getting you wet." Bucky whispered, almost like he was ashamed of himself, "I don't know what came over me."

"It's okay, but this is coming out of your paycheck." The men laugh softly and they continue to float along the lake. They drift into small conversations, discussing various topics, their voices echoing between the trees. Sam was glad to hear Bucky talk. He had no idea how to respond. His brain felt like static, nothing but a single sentence. He couldn't remember when had been the last time he'd spoken so many words to someone.

As the sun set, the heat began to dissipate, leaving the evening air cold and crisp, making the air seem much clearer. Sam could hear the chirping of crickets and frogs. He looked over to where Bucky sat next to him on the dock, staring at the lake in awe. Sam watched silently as Bucky's face relaxed. "This place is beautiful," Bucky muttered softly. His voice sounded strained, but Sam couldn't tell whether it was from swimming all day or something else. Sam nodded mutely. The lake reflected the setting sun in a fiery display of orange and pink, turning it an intense shade of red. After some moments, Sam spoke. "Hey…Barnes?" He said softly.

Bucky didn't turn to look at him, choosing instead to continue staring at the view in front of him. "Hm? Yeah?"

"I probably would have stayed inside, sulking in the heat. Thanks for today." Sam smiled and watched as Bucky turned to look at him. The expression he wore seemed different than usual. Sam wasn't sure why, but somehow, in this light, everything seemed more vulnerable. Like all of the barriers were gone like he was exposed.

"It was really nothing," Bucky replied softly. Then, without warning, he moved to stand. Sam didn’t move away. His lips parted and closed several times as he desperately searched for the right thing to say. He was so afraid of doing or saying something wrong. All he needed was to say the first words that came to mind, those that he knew would mean absolutely nothing because there was no way he suddenly had a crush on his employee.

But, the way Bucky looked at him right now made him rethink those thoughts. There was a fire in his eyes. A fire Sam didn't recognize. It was unfamiliar and yet familiar at the same time. Bucky took a step closer, the distance between them shrinking. Sam could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the sound of it loud in his ears. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words caught in his throat.

"You know, Sam," Bucky began, his voice low and filled with a strange intensity, "I've been through a lot of tough times. But moments like this, they make it all worth it."

Sam's breath hitched. He could see the sincerity in Bucky's eyes, the raw honesty. It was overwhelming. He swallowed hard, trying to gather his thoughts. "I feel the same way, Buck," Sam finally managed to say, his voice trembling slightly. There was an underlying truth there, but he wanted to ignore it.

Bucky smiled a genuine, warm smile that lit up his entire face. He reached out, his fingers brushing against Sam's. The touch was electrifying, sending a jolt of warmth through Sam's body. Sam tried to ignore the sensation building in his chest, a warmth that he didn't want to name, a feeling that seemed to grow with every second spent in Bucky's presence. He pushed it down, convincing himself it was just the remnants of a good day and nothing more.

"Let's pack up," Sam said, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. Bucky nodded, and together they began gathering their things. The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the lake, the sky now a deep shade of blue with stars starting to twinkle. They worked in comfortable silence, the sounds of the night filling the air around them. The quiet companionship was soothing, a perfect end to an unexpectedly perfect day. Once everything was packed, they made their way back to the truck, their footsteps crunching softly on the gravel path.

Sam stole a glance at Bucky, who was walking beside him, his expression content. The fireflies danced around them, tiny sparks of light in the growing darkness. Sam's mind raced with thoughts he wasn't ready to confront, feelings he wasn't ready to admit. As they reached the truck, Bucky turned to Sam with a gentle smile. "Thanks for today, Sam. It was great."

Sam nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. "Yeah, it was. Let's do it again sometime."

Bucky's smile widened, and he opened the truck door, climbing in. Sam followed the cool air inside the truck a welcome relief from the lingering heat of the day. As they drove back, the rhythmic hum of the engine and the steady whoosh of the AC filled the truck, and Sam couldn't help but feel that something had shifted between them.

[aribarilol]

Frostfire Sonata | Bucky Barnes X OC - 18 - Sorry (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1462792000-frostfire-sonata-bucky-barnes-x-oc-18-sorry?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=aribarilmao She was a free spirit, until her life was ripped away from her. He was a cold, emotionless killer. 20 years later she meets the one person she loathed. The man who did it all. The one who turned her into the monster she was today. But what she least expected to find was the burning desire that ignited between them. ----------------------------------------- Enemies to Lovers story Marvel Cinematic Universe AU (Thanos never came down to Earth) *I do not write smut*

[kat-writes]

I also uploaded my Marvel fics from Wattpad to the Archive. :D

[braveclementine]

Chapter 2

Warnings: None.

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own my OCs: Elizabeth Silvertongue and Clementine Greenleaf. I also own Clementines' brother Donavan. The following OCs are owned by other Wattpad writers as this is a collaboration project. Their OCs are on the face claim page. I do not condone any copying of this.

"Do you think these are organic?" Clementine asked, holding up one of the schools hard boiled eggs to the light, as though detecting something wrong with it. 

"I doubt it." I said, the faintest of smiles on my face. 

"We need to go shopping." Clementine huffed, putting the egg back down in the container, sliding it back into the refrigerator. We had come downstairs for breakfast, both of us dressed and ready for the day. 

"Let's do it after school." I responded while she continued to search the cafeteria for something to eat. I sighed as I grabbed some scrambled eggs and sausage links. "Clem, you should just eat something. You'll get light headed if you go all day without eating something, especially since you threw your dinner out last night." 

Clementine huffed about it, but got the boiled eggs and a water. 

We talked about the classes we had that day, before we parted our separate ways and I finally separated from her for the first time since stepping foot on the campus. 

The campus was huge and I immediately regretted not arriving a few days earlier in order to figure out where my classes were. My first class was British Literature with Mr. Wilson, and I barely made it before the bell rang, crossing the threshold, having the door be closed behind me. I quickly took a seat near the front, pulling out a notebook and blue pen. 

Mr. Wilson was a five foot ten, black man, probably around thirty-eight or so. He had a clean beard and a great smile. I immediately fell in love with his energy as he spoke to the class and called attendance. 

"Elizabeth Silvertongue?" Mr. Wilson asked, looking around the classroom.

"Present." I responded quickly, cheeks turning a little pink. He continued with roll call and I took the time to glance around the classroom. 

It was not at all what I had expected of a college classroom, for the posters looked more like what I would've expected to see in a high school. Inspirational posters, posters with book quotes, posters with authors and quotes, that sort of thing. In the back of the room was another poster that showed the alphabet in cursive. 

I noticed many of the students were on phones, some having air pods or earbuds in, giving Professor Wilson perhaps thirty percent of their attention. I turned back around, deciding to pay them no mind. 

He started the lesson off after a gentle reminder to pay attention, which many of the students did not listen to. I diligently took my notes up until the time the bell rang, writing down that I would need a copy of Animal Farm for the first month of class. 

I was both disappointed and also excited. Disappointed because I had already read and reviewed Animal Farm for ninth grade, but also excited because I loved the book and couldn't wait to share my ideas with the class. Despite my degree being in accounting, I had always wanted to be a writer. 

"Have a wonderful day Elizabeth." Professor Wilson said as I packed my things up, being one of the last people to leave the classroom. 

"You too Professor Wilson." I said politely. 

"Call me Sam." Professor Wilson said, waving a hand. "No need to be so formal." 

"Oh. Of course." I said, taken back, heading out the door. No need to be so formal? It wasn't formal, it was just polite. . . wasn't it? 

My next class wasn't for another two hours, so I headed off, locating the school library which had a starbucks, panara, and some sort of chinese restaurant inside of it. I found the literary section with no problem- some things are constant no matter what I suppose- and found several copies of Animal Farm. I wished I had thought to bring my own copy, but I had thought we would be doing harder, newer books. 

I checked the copy out for the rest of the month and then headed downstairs to see a long line at starbucks. 

I would never understand the deal about them. Coffee wasn't the best thing in the world, in fact it was rather disgusting. And even if it was good, I wasn't sure why anyone would buy it for that much money, when they could buy a large pot at the grocery store and make it themselves for cheaper. 

I did get an orange chicken and fried rice bowl at the Chinese restaurant, eating that quickly, before deciding to use my last remaining hour to see where the rest of my classes were. 

It was a good thing too, as it took my fifteen minutes to find one classroom alone. 

To finish off my day was biology with Dr. Banner and Psychology with Professor Barnes. The classes would be the same Wednesday. Tuesday and Thursday was The Survey of East Asian History with Professor Rogers. Small group communications with Professor Potts and The study of Cultural Anthropology with Professor Udaku was on Friday. 

I found all of the classrooms except for the Psychology one easily. It took me forever to find the psychology classroom, before finding it tucked away in the corner of a building none of my other classes took place in. The door was shut and it was quiet in the hall. 

I checked the name on the plate along with the room number, seeing that it was indeed Professor Barnes. 

"Great." I muttered to myself, tracing the path from my biology class to this class in my head. I made a note on my piece of paper before the door to the classroom opened and I came face to face with the most beautiful man I had ever seen outside of animes. 

His face was pale and smooth, his eyes baby blue. His hair was short and blond, his jaw chiseled and his nose perfect. He was tall, probably somewhere around the six foot range. He was dressed nicely in a baby blue button up shirt. An old spice smell with a mix of autumn leaves. 

"Can I help you with something?" He asked, his voice sending shivers up my spine. His voice was hard to describe, neither light nor dark or heavy or breezy. It sounded. . . old fashioned. A specific cadence to it that I couldn't put a finger on. 

"N-no." I stuttered out, glancing at the sign again. "I'm sorry." 

"Don't apologize." He shook his head, offering me a smile. "I just thought I heard someone out here." 

"Oh, well I had an hour of free time and I figured I would find out where all of my classes were." I explained in a rush. "um, so yeah." 

"Would you like to talk to the Professor?" The man inquired, looking over his shoulder. 

He wasn't the Professor? That was a pity, something I felt deep in my gut. 

"Oh, no, that's not necessary." I said breathily, already heading back down the hallway, retreating a little. "But thank you, uh-" 

"Steve Rogers ma'am." The man said. 

"Mr. Rogers." I smiled a little and then turned, heading down the hallway, heart fluttering in my chest. 

Damn he was fine. 

ꨄ︎

Biology passed in a daze, something that I wished hadn't happened as Dr. Banner went in depth even on the first day on anatomy. I was glad that I had taken advanced anatomy in high school, otherwise I would've been completely lost. 

I headed straight to Psychology after that, despite the thirty minute time period within classes, mostly in hopes of seeing Mr. Steve Rogers again. 

I sat outside of the classroom, curled up in one of the armchairs that sat in the hallway. I was so deep in thought in my book, I didn't look up until I realized someone was standing in front of me. 

I yelped as Clementine picked the book up out of my hands. "Clem!" 

"Animal Farm? Let me guess, you have Mr. Wilson too?" Clementine said in a disapproving voice. 

"Yeah." I sighed, reaching up, taking the book back from her. "At least this month will be easy. It'll help lighten the load for my biology class. Anyways, how are your classes going?" 

"You'll never believe this." Clem said, perking right up. "I have Tony Stark for mechanical engineering." 

"No way." I said, stunned. "He's a teacher?" 

"Apparently." Clementine said, excitement lacing her voice. "This is going to be great! Anyways, how do you like the Professors so far?" 

"Well Professor Wilson seems nice enough, though not super strict." I replied, closing the book, placing it back into my bag. "Dr. Banner was interesting and very clear. Wish he'd gone just a little slower, but I'll just have to study a little harder." I paused and then said, "And then there was a really handsome teacher that I don't have but. . ." 

"Oh, do tell?" Clem said, a teasing smirk on her lips. "Whose caught Elizabeth Silvertongues' attention this week?" 

I pushed her shoulder playfully before saying, "Mr. Steve Rogers. Hes' beautiful." 

"Blond? Blue eyes? Pale skin?" Clementine smirked. 

"You have him?" I asked, feeling jealous. 

Clementine rolled her eyes. "Professor Rogers. He teaches my American History II class." 

"Lucky." I muttered, sighing. "Maybe I'll switch my courses." 

"Ha." Clementine laughed. 

I grinned as the door to the Psychology door was opened and I was suddenly thrown for a loop once more. The man standing in front of us was tall, possibly even taller than Professor Rogers. He had dark blue eyes and a dark persona. His shoulders were back and straight, broad. His hair was a dark brown, which was cut short. He was wearing a gray striped suit, though he also had black gloves on his hands. Perhaps a skin condition? 

"Hmm, new record." Clementine teased, making me jolt as students started to walk into the classroom, chatting with each other. "I think you just put two people on your hot list in one day." 

"Shut up." I muttered, standing. Clementine smirked, nudging my shoulder. 

The Professor however, stopped the two of us as we neared the door. "Don't sit next to each other. I would prefer no trouble in my classroom." 

Smiles slid off both of our faces and we headed past him silently. In the classroom, girls were huddled in groups, giggling and laughing, a group of guys were roaring in the back as they looked at something on one of their phones. And in the corner, a girl and boy were making out without a care in the world. 

"Yeah. . ." Clem scoffed. "We're the ones who're gonna cause trouble. Un-be-lievable." She stormed off to sit on the left side of the room next to the wall while I sat in the front row on the right side of the room. 

Professor Barnes closed the door behind him with a final sort of 'snap'. He stood at the front of the classroom, hands in his pockets, just staring until the class slowly started to quiet down. His eyes seemed to meet each of ours and I glanced down at the textbook in front of me as he reached me. 

"Now that you've all shut up, we'll get started." He said, his voice dark and cold. 

The classroom was completely different from all of the others I had been in today. No one made a sound, the only thing to be heard was his voice and the sounds of pens and pencils scratching on paper as we wrote. 

Occasionally, he would ask a question, before immediately directing it at me. I would turn red every single time and lightly say that I didn't know the answer, embarrassment eating me up from the inside out every time. 

As the clock hit the time when class ended, Professor Barnes wrote the homework down on the board. I spent the last few minutes writing it down in my planner, barely noticing other kids leaving. 

"See you in the hallway." Clementine muttered as she passed me, clearly wanting to get out. I capped my pen, starting to put everything away. 

"Miss Silvertongue." A far more pleasant voice said, and I glanced up to see the blond haired man there once more. 

"Hi." I said, nervously, now seeing that Professor Barnes was glaring at the two of us from over his papers. 

"Did you enjoy the class?" His lips lifted into a secret smile, as though he knew exactly what had gone on in the classroom. 

"It was very different from my other classes." I answered honestly and watched his blue eyes twinkle. 

"You want something Steve?" Professor Barnes grouched at the front of the classroom. 

Steve turned, crossing his arms over his chest. His smile was addicting, I could feel my own lips turning into a smile, just watching him. I swung my bag onto my shoulder so I could leave. "the team wants to get drinks tonight." 

"If Sam is there I'm not going." Professor Barnes said, cleaning off the board in front of him. 

I headed down the steps towards the door. 

"Aw, c'mon Buck." Steve's voice continued as I exited the classroom, before trailing off as Clementines' voice took over. 

"God what an asshole!" Clementine huffed, music blaring from her earbuds. 

"How scandalous, you have earbuds in your ears. Whatever shall you do if you get radiation poisoning?" I teased. 

"They're not Bluetooth wireless Elizabeth. They still have a wire." Clementine said, not noticing the sarcasm in my voice through her red hazy anger. I just smirked as the two of us walked back to the dorm. 

ꨄ︎

"Well there we are." I said,  putting the last of the food into the cupboard. We had done our best with getting organic, healthy foods, but without having a stove or oven, it was still going to be very hard to eat what we wanted. "You feeling better?" 

"Yeah, I'm fine." Clementine sighed, closing the refrigerator door, wrapping all of the plastic bags up into a ball, throwing it into the trash. She reached up, pulling her hair out of the ponytail she'd put it into, letting it down. "I'm gonna take a shower and go to bed. I'll see you in the morning." 

"See you." I said, watching her head off to the bathroom, before settling down on the couch, deciding to get a start on the Psychology homework. After two and a half hours, I stumbled to the bathroom, took my own shower, brushed my teeth, and then collapsed into bed, exhausted. 

[jamieleahgrant]

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier poster design.

[mrmossmichael]

It's been 10 years passed since @marvelstudios movie called "Captain America: The Winter Soldier" which is the second one that came out on April-4-2014 and let me tell ya: it was an AWESOME movie I've ever watched. It's about after the cataclysmic events in New York with his fellow Avengers (Iron Man, Hulk, Thor, Black Widow and Hawkeye), Steve Rogers, aka Captain America (Chris Evans), lives in the nation's capital as he tries to adjust to modern times. An attack on a S.H.I.E.L.D. colleague throws Rogers into a web of intrigue that places the whole world at risk. Joining forces with Natasha Romanoff (Scarlett Johansson), aka Black Widow, and a new ally Sam Wilson (Anthony Mackie), aka Falcon, Rogers struggles to expose an ever-widening conspiracy, but he and his team soon come up against an unexpected enemy: the Winter Soldier aka Bucky Barnes (Sebastian Stan). Bucky Barnes is Steve Rodger's childhood best friend who has re-emerged as an enhanced brainwashed assassin by HYDRA after supposedly being killed in action during World War II in the first Captain America movie.

[duttonm]

@artficlly This video was inspired by both the release of this wonderful song by #pentatonix but also by artficlly's fantasy Bucky story, Lady of the Ghosts. Really got me picturing all our favorite marvel characters in a medieval fantasy setting. So I took the weekend to put this together.

[rosabeatrize]

Right where you left me-Bucky Barnes (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/story/343221065-right-where-you-left-me-bucky-barnes?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_myworks&wp_uname=IloveMarvelmen12&wp_originator=1KGr89sEGH15pDQfCumc1R8gI5HTpGxnDxXD7asHZnXXYJsxyhRUwT%2BC5nkzo0vgcKmXnH6K%2FBBUg3HVOL4JCiaaYjGszi%2B8GkvFjl%2B7UsLCyqOKPMkmbhange%2FakFrh "Did you hear about the girl who got frozen" - Taylor Swift In the midst of war a romance bloomed so strong it survived 7 decades of separation but now reunited can it survive. Jane lived without him for 7 decades but when she finds out he's alive will there relationship be able to survive. when years of secrets hidden away come to the surface will she fight for what she has or chase what she once wanted?

[buckymerch]

I made a little cryo tube for a crochet #Bucky that I got from a convention! The top comes off and Bonk can be free!

#Fanmade #fanmademerch

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[katoninefandoms]

Cottagecore Fae/Magic AU

Steve is a Faerie. He’s run away from civilization, human and fae. He’s tired of trying to meet all the expectations. He’s not strong enough for a human, or pretty enough for a fae. So he runs. 

He loses himself in a Forest. He follows the footpaths, letting them guide him, and he comes across a clearing. The Forest sends wind to tousle his hair and coo at him. It shows him to a small cottage in the clearing (a la, sleeping beauty), and it lets him stay. In return for protection, Steve will help all those the Forest leads to him. 

He’s barely settled when his first visitors come. Gods, they are; Thor and Loki. Steve does his best, setting up beds for them and trying to make filling meals out of what little he’s managed to gather. But they are patient. They are only here to oversee the land. That Steve is willing to share what little he has is beautiful. Before they leave the next morning, they each press a blessing kiss to his forehead. 

Steve sets up little shrines in his garden for them, and slips into a routine. He figures out where all the good things are. He forages and sets traps for the small animals. He’s not worried about the meat, though, he can have mushrooms. 

While he’s working in his garden one day, maybe a few months later, another creature comes to the clearing. It’s a huge White Wolf, a shifter, and Steve bows to him in deference. His white fur is matted with blood and he has no front left paw -- it’s not a new injury, but it does mean he’s not so stable while hurt. Steve quickly gets salve and bandages to help. He patches the Wolf up and brings him inside to one of the beds to make him comfortable. When he’s finally well enough, Bucky shifts back into a human form to thank Steve and kneel before him. “Thank you, Fair One.” Steve pulls him up and just makes them breakfast. 

Bucky prefers to live as a Wolf, so he retreats into the Forest, but he stays in the area. He visits Steve often, bringing meat when he does. They bond quickly, and Steve loves to see his friend. 

When the next visitor comes, Steve thinks she and Bucky won’t get along. Another shifter, but a red Cougar, Natasha is competition to a Wolf. But she needs a safe place, so Steve houses and feeds her. She and Bucky get along like fire and kindling. The three of them spend the winter bedded down in Steve’s cabin, since storing up for the season is easier with all three of them doing the work. When spring comes, Natasha and Bucky go out into the Forest to hunt and live their best animal lives. But in winters, they come to stay with Steve. 

Years pass, and Steve only has to help a few wounded animals, point a couple of lost humans in the right direction. But one night, he hears wagon wheels rolling through the forest. It echoes in his clearing and his cottage. He gets up and runs outside to look, but he sees nothing. He follows the sound and the Forest’s guidance, and finds another clearing, and there is a Witch and her coven, her brother and husband, moving into another secluded cottage. Steve realizes he doesn’t know where the Forest gets the cottages, but he’s stopped questioning the Forest a long time ago. Wanda almost hits him with a protection spell, but Steve introduces himself as a steward of the Forest, and she grins, having found kin. She shows Steve Pietro and Vision, and he helps them get moved into the cottage. He promises to help if they should ever need it, and they offer the same. Over the next few days, the new neighbors meet Bucky and Natasha, and Steve shows them the good places to get certain plants. 

Another homesteader is not far behind them, an alchemist, perhaps a mage. Steve doesn’t know. He meets Bruce once, and while he does bring the man vegetables from his garden at the end of summer every year, they’re not very good friends. Bruce keeps to himself mostly, though Steve does sometimes hear odd howling and other sounds from that part of the forest every so often. Wanda promises he’s nice, though Steve gets the feeling she doesn’t see Bruce much, either. 

Over the next few years, there is a recurring visitor. A black Panther, who comes in the night. Steve catches him one night, sleeping on the cottage’s doorsteps. Steve leaves food for him, but he never stays long, always disappearing back into the Forest by dawn. Finally, one night, Steve stays up to catch the Panther’s arrival. He offers him a bed, but T’Challa is wary of the Fae. Steve mentions his friends, the other shifters, if T’Challa needs a safe place to be. In the morning, T’Challa leaves in a direction opposite of his usual, going deeper into the forest. The next time Steve sees him, it’s with Bucky and Natasha, and he can’t stop grinning. 

More years of the same helping animals and lost travelers. But his family grows closer, Natasha and Bucky are officially a bonded pair, their Pack has grown with T’Challa, the Coven invites the other four for celebrations of their holidays, and Steve invites the others to celebrations of Fae holidays. It’s good. The Forest has provided, the gods have blessed. 

But despite it all, Steve is… kind of lonely. 

Fae pass through; two Feathered Ones, a hawk and a falcon that land on Steve’s roof. But he recognizes them immediately and bows. Clint and Sam are not shifters like Bucky, Natasha, and T’Challa, they are Fae, not human. But they have two forms. They spend several nights with Steve, and Steve asks them so many questions about how the Fae realm has changed, how everyone is doing. Nothing has changed much, not like the Forest, which seems to always be growing and changing. The Pack comes to check on Steve when Bucky realizes he hasn’t seen Steve in the woods for days. 

The Feathered ones take to the Pack easily. They don’t want to live like Steve, in a human cottage. But this Pack is very beautiful to them, better than a Fae Court. They nest near Steve’s cottage, but spend their time foraging and hunting with the Pack, eventually joining it. 

Even the Fae aren’t staying. 

But Steve keeps leaving his offerings and working his garden, foraging from the land. Magic flows through the Forest, decades pass, the family grows closer. Even Bruce is brought more into the fold, though there are weeks where he will disappear -- that’s when Steve hears the sounds. He doesn’t dare investigate, because if Bruce wanted them all to know… he’s had plenty of chances to get the others involved. Steve won’t push if he’s not ready. 

More years, more time with family, more loneliness. 

One evening, Steve is leaving to go out into the forest. It’s dark, and it’s his favorite time to go hunting for mushrooms. They glow when he comes close, so it’s much more fun to forage them at night. But as he’s going, a tiny Faun bursts from the Forest giggling and squealing as he chases fireflies. He freezes when he sees Steve, and Steve freezes, too, not wanting to scare the poor thing. He waits for an adult Faun to follow, but there isn’t one. When Steve asks, the boy confirms that he’s lost. Steve gets Peter a blanket and a mug of tea, and sits with him on the steps to wait for his father. When no father is forthcoming, Steve uses magic to amplify Peter calling for his father, letting the boy’s voice echo through the Forest. He knows the Forest will make sure the right creature hears. 

An adult Faun bursts into the clearing minutes later, clearly concerned. Peter rushes to his father, joyful and relieved. Steve bows to the Faun, once he has his attention. He introduces himself and offers the man and his son beds for the night. Tony thanks him, explaining that they are having to run for humans. Steve gives them dinner and beds, promising they are safe. 

But he can’t sleep. He can’t stop thinking about how terrified Tony seemed, but how much Peter loved the forest. He thinks about Tony’s warm chestnut eyes. He doesn’t want to see them go. He just feels it in his heart, in the way his forehead tingles when they’re near, that he’s supposed to keep them. He spends the night putting together baskets of provisions for them, in case they don’t want to stay. 

In the morning, he passes over one of the bundles to Tony, but his hands are still on it. Steve looks up into Tony’s eyes, and he feels his forehead buzzing, almost. “The Forest never lets anything harmful come here,” he promises. “You’d be safe. I… would you like to stay?” And Tony seems unsure, but Steve begs, “Please, stay?” 

Tony can’t say no, and he and Peter stay. Tony says they’ll only stay until spring. But come spring, he’s helping Steve add onto the cottage. The lumber and other materials they need appear from nowhere at the edge of the clearing. But it’s perfect. They send thanks to the Forest every day. They build and together, they take care of the Forest’s lost souls. 

Wanda and Vision have boys that come to play with Peter, the Pack comes and helps with the building, Tony makes good friends with Bruce. And Steve isn’t lonely anymore. The Forest provided, the gods blessed. He leaves offerings and thanks for them every night, and they even return the summer Steve and Tony officially pair. They both kiss Steve’s forehead before leaving, and Steve just can’t stop grinning.

[honeeysagee]

Invisible Threads - SamBucky Angst Fic

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single thread ties everyone together, weaving through lives like an invisible needle, stitching moments, choices, and fates into a vast, intricate tapestry. Each knot in this thread marks a connection—a meeting of eyes, a shared smile, a whispered secret—binding hearts in ways seen and unseen. At least, that’s what Sam Wilson thought.

He had always believed in the power of connection, in the bonds that people forge through shared experiences and the stories that intertwined them. This will not change, and after this evening, it proved his point.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows in the attic, Sam wiped the sweat from his brow as more of it dripped down his face. He had been working for an hour straight now. His arms ached from carrying boxes around from every nook and cranny of the attic. The attic itself was littered with items left behind by his parents. All of which were covered with dust. Some of these items were from his childhood. They could’ve be given to AJ and Cass. Others were gifts from friends, family, and strangers alike.

The air was thick with memories, each object a silent witness to moments long past. Sam paused for a moment, picking up an old baseball glove that had once been his favorite, the leather worn soft from years of play. He smiled, thinking of afternoons spent in the yard with his father, tossing the ball back and forth, the sun warm on their backs. Those were simpler times before the weight of the world had settled on his shoulders.

He thought to place the glove in a box labeled "Keep," alongside a few other cherished items. This attic was more than just a storage space—it was a time capsule, a place where the threads of his past were still visible, linking him to the boy he once was, to the man he had become. Each box he moved, each item he uncovered, was like rediscovering a part of himself, reminding him of the connections that had shaped his life.

But tonight, as he continued to sort through the clutter, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something more awaited him in these dusty corners—a connection yet to be unearthed, a truth that would once again remind him of the power of the thread that ties them all together.

“Hey, Sammy, you up there?” Bucky's voice called up from the bottom of the attic stairs, breaking through Sam’s thoughts.

Sam chuckled to himself at the nickname. Bucky had started using it ironically, but over time, it had stuck.

“Yeah, I’m here,” Sam replied, still holding the baseball glove in his hand. “Just trying to make some sense of this mess.”

He heard the creak of the steps as Bucky made his way up, the sound of his boots against the wooden floorboards familiar and comforting. Bucky’s presence had a way of grounding him, even when things got heavy. As Bucky reached the top, he took in the sight of the cluttered attic and let out a low whistle.

“Man, you weren’t kidding,” Bucky said, eyeing the piles of boxes and forgotten relics scattered around. He stepped closer, dusting off an old framed photo sitting atop a nearby box. “Found anything interesting?”

“Depends on what you call interesting,” Sam replied, tossing the glove into the box marked "Keep."

“Just a bunch of old stuff, mostly. Some of it I haven’t seen in years.”

Bucky nodded, setting the photo down and walking over to where Sam stood. He glanced around, the history of Sam’s life visible in every dusty corner. “It’s good to go through this stuff, you know? Makes you remember where you came from.”

“Yeah,” Sam said softly, his gaze tracing the room. How had he not been up here once since getting the house? It was so easy to get lost in his thoughts when he was up here, surrounded by his past. Everyone he’s lost were just that…lost, but here, they were alive. Their memories planted in boxes that he had to open to reminisce.

His mother’s cooking book was packed into a box of old library books he’d forgotten to take back. He could almost smell the aroma of her gumbo wafting through the air as he looked at it. His father’s tool set was stashed between clothes and newspapers, the same tools that had built so much of what made their house a home. And then, there was Riley’s card set, tucked away in a box labeled “Give To Sam.” It was a simple set, nothing fancy, but Sam remembered the countless nights they’d spent playing cards, talking about everything and nothing, their laughter filling the air.

The outside world had moved on, but in here, time was still, and he was reminded of it. Every item was a snapshot of a life that once was—a life that had shaped who he was, who he still was. It was both comforting and painful, a bittersweet reminder that while the world outside kept spinning, some things remained untouched, frozen in time.

He glanced over at Bucky, who was quietly observing the room, his own thoughts seemingly miles away. Bucky understood loss better than most, the way it could carve a hole in your heart and leave you feeling like a part of you was missing. Yet, in this moment, surrounded by the echoes of the past, Sam didn’t feel alone. They had both lost so much, but they had also found something—each other.

As Sam ran his fingers over the worn box labeled “Give To Sam,” he felt that familiar thread again, the one that tied him to these memories, to his family, and even to Bucky. It was frayed and tattered, but it was still there, holding him together, grounding him.

He reached in, sifting through the items that his parents and sister must have placed in the box. His fingers brushed against the familiar texture of Riley’s card set, nestled between a collection of old photographs and handwritten notes. Each photograph was a snapshot of simpler times—family gatherings, holiday celebrations, moments frozen in the warmth of shared smiles.

Then, that’s when he saw it. A small envelope, with the same faded, blue ink as Riley’s handwriting. Sam pulled it out carefully, opening it up to reveal a photo of him and Riley. The two of them were laughing, arms around each other, captured in a moment of genuine joy and camaraderie.

The photo was slightly creased, but the expressions on their faces were clear and vibrant. Riley’s grin was wide, his eyes sparkling with mischief, while Sam’s smile was warm and easy, a testament to their close bond. Sam traced the edges of the photo with his thumb, lost in thought.

“What’s that?” Bucky pulled him from his thoughts. Sam looked over with a bittersweet look on his face. “Oh,” Sam placed the photo in Bucky’s hand, “That’s me and Riles. Riley. He was my best friend.”

Bucky’s world came to a halt. The sight of the photo, so vibrant with memories of Sam and Riley, felt like a jarring collision with his own buried guilt. Every detail of the photo—Riley’s smile, the ease of their friendship—stirred a deep, unresolved ache within him. He felt as if time itself had stopped, leaving him stranded in a moment of painful clarity. The realization that he had been part of something so innocent and now so irrevocably altered made it hard for him to focus or even think clearly.

He remembered that night clearly. He was sent to shoot down a fighter jet carrying hard drives full of information. No, the Winter Soldier was sent to shoot down a fighter jet. Yet, nothing the size of a jet was coming up on his radar. Just two small red dots.

He had followed orders, locking onto the targets that appeared on his screen. The small red dots, no larger than the tip of his finger, represented lives, each one a small piece in a larger, unseen puzzle. The image of those dots merging with Riley’s face made him shudder. Each signal that flickered across his radar now felt like a haunting reminder of the innocence he had unknowingly destroyed.

Bucky blinked, trying to reconcile the dissonance between his past actions and the present reality. The mission had been a cold, calculated operation, executed with the efficiency of a machine. At the time, the red dots on his radar had represented nothing more than targets—targets he had been ordered to eliminate.

But now, standing in the attic, holding the photo of Riley, the gravity of his actions hit him with a crushing force. The dots had been more than mere blips; they had been lives, and Riley’s was one he had taken. The contrast between the sterile detachment of his past mission and the vivid, emotional reality of the present was overwhelming.

As Sam continued to sift through memories, oblivious to the internal storm raging within Bucky, the dissonance became even more pronounced. The life Bucky had taken and the life he was now trying to mend seemed irreconcilable, and he felt trapped between two worlds—one defined by his past deeds and the other by the shared moments with Sam.

Bucky’s vision blurred as he struggled to maintain his composure. The weight of what he had done and the reality of the present were too heavy to bear. He needed to find a way to face the past and seek forgiveness, but for now, he was left with the painful realization of the depth of his actions and their impact on the life he was trying to build.

He cleared his throat, a lump of guilt building there as well as everywhere in his body. “How did he die?” Bucky’s voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. The question hung in the air, laden with an unspoken hope that somehow, in some universe, he hadn't been the one to end Riley’s life.

Sam looked up, startled by the sudden shift in Bucky’s tone. He studied Bucky’s face, seeing the strain and the unspoken pain etched into his features. “We were tasked to carry some hard drives to another facility,” Sam said slowly, his voice tinged with sadness. “I carried them. I knew the risk. For some reason, Riles kept flying ahead of me. I told him to get back, but it was too late. He was already tumbling to the ground.”

As Sam continued to speak about Riley, Bucky’s mind struggled to absorb the information. The stark reality that he had been sent to kill Sam—his Sam—while mistakenly ending Riley’s life instead felt like a cruel twist of fate. The details of the mission now seemed to converge in a chaotic blur, his heart heavy with the realization of the gravity of his past.

The image of Riley’s fall, so vivid in Sam’s recounting, was a painful echo of the disconnect between his own memories and the reality of what had happened. Bucky’s chest tightened as he grappled with the truth that he had been responsible for the death of Sam’s best friend, while his own target had been Sam himself. The weight of the revelation settled over him, mixing with the gnawing guilt and remorse that seemed to permeate every corner of his being.

“Are you okay?” Sam asked, reaching out to touch Bucky’s arm, but he was too late. Bucky moved with such speed that Sam barely saw him go.

“Need air,” Bucky gasped out, his words echoing in his head as he fled the room. The door slammed shut behind him, cutting off all sound.

For several seconds, Sam stood still, stunned by the suddenness of Bucky’s departure. The weight of their conversation and Bucky’s reaction left him feeling disoriented. When he finally managed to move, his mind was a whirl of confusion and concern. He knew he needed to check on Bucky, but the urgency of his own feelings mixed with the remnants of their painful conversation made every step feel heavy.

He moved quickly, following Bucky’s retreat. His heart pounded as he navigated through the house, driven by the need to find his friend and offer some semblance of comfort. The strained silence of the house seemed to amplify his footsteps as he searched for Bucky.

Outside, he saw a dark figure on the steps of the house. Sam stepped through the door, closing it softly behind him, and approached Bucky, who stood motionless, his back slightly hunched as if weighed down by an invisible burden.

As Sam drew closer, Bucky turned to face him. His expression was one of profound guilt, eyes clouded with a mixture of anguish and regret. The eerie look in his eyes only deepened Sam’s confusion, making the weight of their earlier conversation press heavily on his shoulders.

“Bucky, what’s wrong?” Sam asked, his voice gentle but laced with concern. “Why did you run? What’s going on?”

Bucky struggled to find the right words, his gaze shifting away as he tried to compose himself. “Sam, I... I didn’t mean to—” His voice faltered, and he looked like he might collapse under the weight of his emotions.

The tension between them was palpable, and Sam felt a pang of empathy as he tried to bridge the gap that had suddenly opened between them. He wanted to understand, to offer support, but Bucky’s haunted expression left him grasping for clarity in the midst of the unfolding emotional storm. “Talk to me,” Sam offered, “What’s up?”

Bucky looked back at him, searching his eyes for a sign that he would accept whatever explanation was coming next. He wanted to believe there was a universe where Sam would forgive him instantly, where he would simply nod and say it was okay, maybe even suggest they go make dinner together to smooth things over. But that was a fantasy that seemed increasingly out of reach.

The guilt and fear in Bucky’s eyes were palpable, and he struggled to steady his voice as he tried to explain. “I didn’t know.”

Sam’s expression softened slightly, though confusion remained. “Didn’t know what, Buck?”

Bucky hesitated, his words catching in his throat. “I didn’t know who I was hurting. I was just following orders, but I didn’t see the people behind the targets. I didn’t realize…”

The silence between them grew heavy, filled with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved pain. Sam tried to piece together the fragments of Bucky’s fragmented explanation, his mind racing through possibilities.

He pictured the mission Bucky had been on, trying to understand what could have triggered such a visceral reaction. The fear and confusion in Bucky’s eyes, combined with his own turmoil, led Sam to fear the worst. He felt a deep, unsettling sense that the truth was more complex and painful than he had anticipated, and he struggled to process the full impact of Bucky’s confession.

Then, like he was there again—right next to Riley—Sam saw it vividly in his mind.

He’s flying, the wind rushing past him, and the air tastes like salt. Riley is ahead of him, maneuvering through the sky with practiced ease. Sam calls out to him, his voice lost in the roar of the wind.

Riley’s figure wavers as he responds, a brief nod visible before he continues to push ahead. Sam’s heart races, his concern growing. He tries to keep up, but the distance between them widens.

In that moment, Sam feels a pang of helplessness, knowing that Riley is moving too fast, risking too much. Sam pushes harder, catching up as Riley begins to slow down.

Riley eventually stops completely, hovering in the air, his form silhouetted against the stars. The moonlight highlights the silver on his suit, casting a stark contrast against the dark sky. He seems suspended in the night, a brief moment of stillness before the fall.

As Sam watches in horror, the serene scene shifts violently. Riley’s figure, once graceful and controlled, begins to plummet towards the ground. The descent is swift, almost surreal against the backdrop of the quiet night. The moon’s glow fades, and the silver of Riley’s suit becomes a fleeting glint as he disappears from view, swallowed by the darkness below.

For years, that’s been the story. Sam watched Riley’s death unfold, paralyzed by a crushing sense of helplessness. He couldn't make it to the ground fast enough to save his friend, the distance between them stretching infinitely as Riley fell. All those years of trying to track the shooter, and now, he was standing in front of him.

“What did you do?” Sam’s voice was barely above a whisper, his mind racing as he struggled to grasp the magnitude of the situation.

Bucky’s hands fidgeted rapidly, fingers working unconsciously as if trying to hold onto something precious. “That’s not what—” Bucky began, but his voice faltered. A sob escaped him, his face contorting with the weight of his guilt. “I didn’t know, Sam. I didn’t—”

Without thinking, Bucky reached out to Sam, his body trembling with emotion. Sam stepped back, his face twisted with shock and revulsion.

“Don’t,” Sam said, his voice taut with barely contained fury. “Just don’t come any closer. You took him away from his family. From Sarah and the boys. You took him from me!”

The scream that followed was raw and unrestrained, each word charged with the intensity of his anger. Sam’s eyes blazed with a fierce, heartbreaking rage, every ounce of his grief channeled into the force of his outburst. Bucky stood there, overwhelmed by the weight of Sam’s fury and the chasm it revealed between them. The silence that followed was thick with the unresolved pain of their fractured relationship, leaving both men struggling to cope with the enormity of the moment.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky said, his eyes locked on the grass beneath his boots. “I’m so sorry, Sam.” His voice cracked, betraying the deep anguish he felt. “I was following orders. He wasn’t the target. It was an accident.”

Sam’s eyes burned with fury as he glared at Bucky. “Who was the target then?” he snapped, his voice rising with each word. “If Riley wasn’t the fucking target, then who was?”

Bucky flinched at the intensity in Sam’s voice, his shoulders slumping as he struggled to answer. “You,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I was sent for you. Riley was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I didn’t have the complete picture.”

Sam’s face twisted with disbelief and rage. “So Riley was just collateral damage in some fucked-up mission to get to me?” His hands clenched into fists, his voice shaking with the force of his anger. “Is that what you’re saying? That my friend’s death was just an unfortunate accident in your pursuit of me?”

Bucky’s eyes were filled with sorrow and regret. “I didn’t even remember it until I saw his picture.”

Sam’s voice was a raw, broken whisper. “And now? What do you expect me to do with this? How do you expect me to just—” He struggled to find the words, his anger and grief crashing together in a tumult of emotion. “You took him from his family. And for what? To get to me?”

“No, Sam, I—” Bucky’s voice cracked, his face etched with pain.

Sam’s breathing was ragged, his face pale with the weight of his sorrow. “Has this all been an act? There’s no possible way you took one look at the photo and instantly knew. There’s no goddamn way you’ve spent all these years around me, and never once did you look up and think about what you did!”

Bucky nodded, the depth of Sam’s pain reflected in his own shattered expression. “I never thought about it.”

Sam’s eyes burned with a mixture of betrayal and pain. “Never thought about it. I’ve talked about him so much. I’ve confided in you, and never once, did you put the dots together. You took away my lifeline!”

Bucky looked down, the weight of his own actions crushing him. “I know, and now… now I have to live with that.”

Sam’s anger and grief mixed in a torrent of raw emotion. “Well, living with it doesn’t change anything, Bucky. It doesn’t bring Riley back to me!”

There was a heavy silence that followed, thick with the weight of their shared pain and unresolved conflict. The night air seemed to press down on them, making the quiet feel even more profound. Bucky stood frozen, the enormity of Sam’s words sinking in, while Sam turned away, his body tense with the struggle to contain his emotions.

After a long moment, Sam turned slowly, his eyes fixed on a spot somewhere beyond Bucky’s shoulder, refusing to meet his gaze. “What do I tell Sarah and the boys? How do I look them in the eye and tell them that the man they eat dinner with every night killed their best friend and uncle?” Sam asked suddenly, his voice low and tight. Bucky shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to say.

Sam swallowed his pain, his voice trembling. “How do I explain to them that the man who’s been part of our lives is the same one who caused us so much grief? I have to find a way to face them, to deal with this... again.”

Tears pooled in Sam’s eyes as he stared into the distance, his entire body trembling with suppressed rage. “I loved you,” Sam said, his voice thick with anger and heartbreak. “You took my world from me, and you made me love you while you were hiding that. God, I wish I could hate you.”

Sam’s face flushed with fury, the tears streaming down his cheeks. “How could you do this to me? How could you be so close and yet keep such a terrible secret? I trusted you, and you betrayed that trust in the worst way possible.”

Bucky stood frozen, his own face pale with a mixture of regret and terror. The weight of Sam’s words hit him like a physical blow. His hands trembled as he tried to find the right words, but his voice came out as a strained whisper. “Sam, I—”

“Get. Out,” Sam interrupted, his voice rising in intensity. “Just get out.”

Bucky’s heart pounded in his chest, each word from Sam slicing through him like a knife. He looked at Sam with a mix of desperation and anguish, his own feelings of guilt and sorrow reflected in his eyes. “Sam, please. I know I can’t undo what happened, but—”

“If I see you again, I will kill you,” Sam stated boldly, “Super Serum or not. I will make you suffer, and I will enjoy it.”

The raw intensity of Sam’s anger left Bucky reeling. The cold stare of Sam’s eyes froze the words on Bucky’s tongue; the threat echoed in the air between them, the weight of it causing Bucky to shudder involuntarily, but his face remained expressionless.

For several moments, neither man moved, both waiting for the other to make the first move.

Sam’s eyes darted toward the house, the urge to flee from his overwhelming emotions almost too powerful to resist. He took a deep breath, shaking his head sharply to refocus his anger. His eyes locked onto Bucky’s with a fierce intensity. “Go,” he whispered, his voice cold and unyielding. “Now. Before I do something stupid.”

The words cut through Bucky like a knife, each one landing with a painful clarity. He understood the threat in Sam’s tone, the unspoken demand for distance. Bucky longed to reach across the chasm between them, to pull Sam into an embrace, to offer whatever comfort he could, but he knew better than to try. The gap of betrayal and hurt was too wide, and any attempt at physical contact would only deepen the wound.

Bucky’s shoulders slumped as he took a hesitant step back, his heart aching with the weight of Sam’s anger and the finality of his command. The desire to bridge the gap and offer solace was overpowering, but he remained rooted, his eyes reflecting the depth of his own remorse and helplessness.

Sam watched Bucky retreat, his heart a tumult of conflicting emotions. The finality of his own command was both a relief and a torment. He felt the burning sting of betrayal and grief, mingling with a deep sense of loss. As Bucky’s figure disappeared into the night, Sam’s anger gave way to an empty, aching silence. The house behind him seemed colder, a stark reminder of the fractured world left in the wake of Bucky’s departure.

In the distance, as Bucky walked away, the thread that Sam had once believed connected them began to feel like a frayed and broken strand. The once-close bond they shared, which had brought them comfort and togetherness, was now in ruins. The connections they had built were shattered, leaving behind a deep emptiness where their friendship used to be. The thread that had once tied their lives together was lost in the wreckage of broken trust.

As Bucky walked away, lost in the weight of his guilt and confusion, his phone rang. He checked the screen and saw a message from an unknown number. With trembling hands, he opened it to find a text that read, “That was tough to watch. Seems like you need a new partner.”

The message was a chilling reminder that his troubles were far from over, and the road ahead seemed darker and more uncertain than ever. Bucky's heart raced as he stared at the screen, unsure of what the next chapter of his troubled journey would hold, yet the only question he had circling through his mind was: Will this bring me back to Sam?

[aribarilol]

Frostfire Sonata | Bucky Barnes X OC - 16 - Spar (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1459254164-frostfire-sonata-bucky-barnes-x-oc-16-spar?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=aribarilmao She was a free spirit, until her life was ripped away from her. He was a cold, emotionless killer. 20 years later she meets the one person she loathed. The man who did it all. The one who turned her into the monster she was today. But what she least expected to find was the burning desire that ignited between them. ----------------------------------------- Enemies to Lovers story Marvel Cinematic Universe AU (Thanos never came down to Earth) *I do not write smut*

[missmarveledsblog]

Once in a lifetime kinda deal ( MAFIA BUCKY X READER) (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/story/369818799-once-in-a-lifetime-kinda-deal-mafia-bucky-x-reader?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_myworks&wp_uname=Missmarveled avengers mafia au when the daughter of tony stark is in an arranged marriage with her bodyguards best friend . another mafia boss jame barnes the two find themselve liking the arrangement more than expected although the life of a mafia boss is never smooth sailing this is a fast burn pure self indulgent work so very inaccurate, slight cheesy work some angst and traumatised characters its a mafia fic so will contain murder, violence , sexual themes and smut , language 18+ slight soulmate feeling to it

[braveclementine]

Chapter 13

Warnings: None.

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own my OCs: Elizabeth Silvertongue and Clementine Greenleaf. I also own Clementines' brother Donavan. The following OCs are owned by other Wattpad writers as this is a collaboration project. Their OCs are on the face claim page. I do not condone any copying of this.

"Oh, good morning Professor Barnes." I said in surprise, slipping into the passenger seat of his car. I felt a little awkward, one having expected Professor Rogers to be picking me up, and secondly because I had rejected Professor Barnes the night before. 

"Morning Elizabeth." He grumbled, taking off before I had even gotten my seat belt on. His eyes darted constantly as we passed students and faculty and complete strangers. 

"Did you get any sleep last night?" I frowned, staring at his face now. He didn't look like he'd shaved and there were dark circles under his eyes. 

"No, I was on guard duty." Professor Barnes yawned. 

I dropped my mouth, "Guard duty? On what? On us?" 

"Yep." He said. 

"What- why?" I asked, flabbergasted. 

"Wanted to make sure those scumbags really stayed away from you." He answered, rather bluntly in my opinion. Then again, he was answering all of my questions very honestly, which was surprising. 

"No offense, but you're a teacher." I mumbled, sinking down in my seat, wanting to sleep. "You should get a police officer or something if you really want that." 

"You forget I'm also ex-military." 

"Retired." 

"Doesn't mean I shouldn't keep you safe." 

"Means you should, it's not your job." 

"How long are they staying?" 

"I don't know. Maybe two weeks?" 

"Great, you're moving in with Stevie and me." Bucky said as though there wasn't any conflict with this at all. 

"Pardon?" I asked, turning to look at him. He was speeding down the street, not taking care to notice the thirty-five miles per hour signs up as we went past them at fifty. "And slow down before you get pulled over by the police!" 

"I thought you wanted the police to do their job?" Bucky jested, but not in a mean way, the corner of his mouth turning up into a smile. 

"Whatever." I grumbled, already feeling lighter, despite the newest tragedy in my life. 

We rode in silence until we were pulling up to the house. I saw the curtains twinge as Steve had clearly been looking out them, looking for us. 

"Hey, um, sorry about last night." I muttered, cheeks flushing. 

"Huh? About what?" Bucky asked, turning his dark blue eyes on me. 

"Er- rejecting you." I mumbled. 

He gave a short laugh, "Doll, I pushed my boundaries. You don't have anything to be sorry for. I should be the one apologizing. 'Cept I'm not sorry." 

I laughed at that, opening the door. 

"Besides," Bucky added, getting out of the car too. "Stevie and I have the same belief. Or had, until we got married. We completely understand. We're just not used to other people believing the same." 

I smiled, "Plus, you're already married so if the two of you agree on someone, I understand that as well." 

He smirked. "Steve and I have never actually agreed upon a dame before." 

"I feel lucky." I teased back as Steve opened the front door. He too looked like he hadn't gotten any sleep last night and I stopped, putting my hands on my hips. "What did you do last night? Guard the back of the dorm?" 

Steve looked like a deer in headlights until Bucky clapped him on the shoulder. "Nah, punk over here was researching those two dickheads." 

Steve scowled, "Language jerk." 

I sighed, shaking my head, "You know I had to grow up around Donavan my whole life. And Brock looks scary, but one good kick in the you-know-where spot puts him out of commission for a week. You don't really have to worry about them, that show last night was just to try and intimidate us." 

"How's Miss Greenleaf?" Steve asked, closing the door behind us while he and Bucky shared a glance I didn't understand. It was like they thought Donavan and Brock were more dangerous than they really were. 

"She's fine." I sighed, rubbing the back of my head, going to move towards my office, but Steve wrapped an arm around my waist. I gave a startled yelp as he carried me to the living room, where a breakfast had been laid out, the next Jurassic Park movie on the TV. 

"Date morning." Steve whispered in my ear, before setting me down on the couch. 

I blushed. "Um but-" 

"I know." Steve murmured, stroking my cheek with his thumb. "Let us court you Elizabeth. No sex, just days like this." 

I was silent for a while, before I glanced up at Bucky. He smiled in a reassuring way and I felt something inside of me glow. 

I wasn't sure how it would work. In the back of my head, I figured it was a waste of time. After all, they were married and it wasn't like I could marry two people. I almost always looked at a relationship for long term and I couldn't see this one actually going anywhere. 

Yet. . . 

I thought of Clementine and Professor Wilson. That relationship wouldn't be going anywhere either. After all, while it wasn't illegal for a student and Professor to be dating, it was certainly frowned upon and Clementine's life already had enough controversies as it was. 

So. . . 

"Okay." I whispered. 

"Yes." Bucky hissed, before capturing the back of my head with his prosthetic hand, his lips latching onto mine. 

It was euphoric, the way that his lips felt against mine. As cheesy as it was to claim that it felt like we were made for each other. . . that's exactly how it felt. His tongue met mine as both of us parted our lips. 

Steve simply let us do our thing, resting his chin on my shoulder, occasionally tilting his head so he could kiss my neck, but otherwise was silent and unmoving. 

Bucky finally pulled away, my lungs crying out in declaration as air moved through me again. Bucky chuckled softly. "You have to breathe through your nose doll." 

I giggled and flushed darkly, before turning to look at Steve. Steve smiled gently, leaning in, caressing my lips with his. It was a much gentler kiss, safer, but sweet and fitting all the same. He nipped at my bottom lip suddenly, pulling back, before letting it go. 

I felt like a mess, knowing I was slicked between the legs, my hair puffing out, and my lips felt swollen. 

"C'mon, let's watch." Steve hummed, letting the fifth movie play. We were much quicker to snuggle up with each other. I was sandwiched between the two Professors, snacking on the finger-sized sausage links while they ate at least three platefuls of eggs, pancakes, bacon, and fruit. 

As the movie came to an end, they did nothing but skip onto the sixth and final movie, which was one of my favorites since it brought back every amazing character. By the time that movie was over too, both of the Professors were snoring softly, their arms wrapped so tightly around me that I could not actually get up from where I was. 

I contented myself to laying between the two of them, feeling safer than I had felt in a while. Everything that had gone on with Donavan and Brock, the near miss at the grocery store, and the boy I had shot. . . this felt amazing. This felt calm. This. . . This felt like it was where I was supposed to be. 

I slowly drifted off to sleep, hoping that this could last just a little bit longer. 

ꨄ︎

"So, if I can ask." Bucky said as we sat, replaying the sixth movie since they'd slept through a good portion of it, eating Panda Express while we did so. "How did you and Rumlow date?" 

"Buck!" Steve scolded him. 

"No, it's fine." I said, popping another piece of orange chicken into my mouth. "It's kind've stupid. It was a few years ago, I was sixteen-" 

"Isn't Rumlow in his thirties?" Bucky asked, surprised. 

"What? No." I laughed. "At the time, he was like nineteen I think? He's not that much older than us. Anyways, there was this dance and Clementine had a date and I didn't. Donavan introduced me to him. I didn't like Donavan, but Brock was hot and he was nice enough." 

The glare Steve and Bucky sent each other when I called Brock 'hot' and I had to hide my smile. 

"Anyways, we dated for a little while but I started backing off the more that he pressed to. . . well you know." I took Bucky's hand into mine as he clenched it tightly. "Anyways, at the same time, Clementine was dating this superb guy. We had planned to meet each others' guys and well. . . turns out Brock was with both of us." 

"Dick." Bucky grumbled. 

"Language." Steve said in an exasperated voice. 

I smiled. "Anyways, Clem and I both dumped him at the same time and I don't think he's quite gotten over it. Donavan and him wanted double dates with similar girls." 

"Then why didn't Rumlow date Clementine and Donavan date you?" Steve asked. 

I bit my lip, digging my fork into the chicken and then muttered. "Er, because Donavan um. . . doesn't want me." 

It took them a second but then Steve was on his feet, anger written all over his face. 

"Punk." Bucky said in a warning voice, his arm having tightened around me. 

"She can stay here too." Steve said immediately. "We have plenty of rooms. There's no way-" 

"I'll ask." I said softly. "But Clem is sort've determined to ride this out on her own. . . with me by her side but she doesn't want outsiders in her business. The last time we tried to get people involved. . . she was the jealous sister who was badmouthing her angel of a brother. My parents believed her and they called off my arranged marriage with Donavan." 

"Arranged marriage?" Steve asked, "That's still a thing?" 

I laughed, "Sort've. Obviously, rare, but our families had it arranged when I was five. But they called it off. And I think Clementines' parents were sort've believing because they didn't have a problem with it and they've done their best to keep Donavan and Clementine separate since then. But since there's no evidence and Donavan is an angel boy. . . you know it's something they don't want to believe." 

I finished off my Chinese food, completely relaxing into Bucky. He mindlessly stroked my hair, putting his own food down. 

"Elizabeth," Steve said softly, sitting down and taking my hand. "Please stay here until they're gone. Please?" 

I could tell it meant a lot to him, the earnest in his eyes. He seemed almost fearful and all I wanted to do was appease his worries. 

"Okay." I whispered, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "Okay." 

"Thank you." He breathed out. 

"I'll have to go and get some things though." I said slowly. "I know it's Saturday but I think they're going to be here for a while so I need my school books and clothes. Things like that. And I need to talk to Clementine, which I want to do in person." 

"You can take the car." Steve said, a playful smirk crawling onto his face. 

Bucky shot up immediately. "Hello no! No one else is driving that car." 

I pouted, "Are you saying I'll crash it." 

"Yes." He said with zero hesitation. "Jeez punk, you really want to give me a heart attack like that?" 

I giggled at that, kissing his cheek too. "So whose driving me?" 

"I will." Steve started to say, but Bucky was the one scooping me up under his arm like I was a child. 

"Nope, I'm taking her." Bucky said while I laughed. 

"See you when you get home." Steve laughed after us, cleaning up the empty cardboard boxes. I should really look into where they sourced their chicken and vegetables and seeing if I was putting poison into my veins. But I also wasn't going to pass up a chance to eat with my hot Professors. 

Stepping outside and into the car, it felt like a completely different world. Like the inside of their house was a fantasy land and we had just stepped into the real world. Driving back onto campus I thought of what everyone would say if they knew where I had been and what I had been doing. The names I would be called and the looks I would receive. 

He pulled up to the dorm and turned the car off, "Want me to go inside with you?" 

"Nah, I got it. Although I'll call you if I have a hard time convincing Clem to come stay with us." I said with a grin, getting out of the car before pausing, "If I take longer than ten minutes, come get me." 

"Got it doll." He replied. 

I headed up into the dorm and stepped inside. All of the lights were off and it was silent. It was obvious that Clementine was not here and I made my way to my dorm. 

I started to pack a small bag, while also gathering my school things, when I noticed a note laying on my bed. It was written in purple ink, so I knew that it was from Clementine. 

𝓛𝓲𝔃𝔃𝔂,𝓦𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝔂 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓢𝓪𝓶 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓪 𝔀𝓱𝓲𝓵𝓮. 𝓗𝓸𝓹𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓭. 𝓢𝓮𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓲𝓷 𝓼𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓸𝓵 𝓜𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓪𝔂.-𝓒𝓵𝓮𝓶

Good, she would be safe then. I was glad. I picked the note up so that I could toss it somewhere else. Suddenly, the door behind me opened and I spun around to face Donavan and Brock. 

"Where's Clementine?" Donavan asked dangerously. 

"What the hell are you two doing here? How did you get into the dorm?" I asked angrily, feeling completely vulnerable. I really, really wished I had my gun, because these were two scumbags I wouldn't have nightmares about killing. 

"Who is Sam?" Donavan growled. They had already read the message then. That wasn't good. 

"I don't know." I replied. "Some guy she's been seeing, but she only told me about him last night!" 

I wondered if I would survive jumping out the window. Probably not. 

"Where are you going sweetcheeks?" Brock asked, looking at my packed things. "Are you staying somewhere else tonight? Why?" 

I gritted my teeth. "Extra credit. I'm going camping. Bug off." 

"Sure, sure." Brock said, edging around me. Despite trying to keep both of them in my line of sight, there was one on either side of me and I was not a fan of it. "That's why your school stuff is packed too." 

"Why are you running?" Donavan asked softly. "I get it, Clementine lied to you about some stuff and you don't like me. But have I really ever done anything to you to make you scared of me?" 

"Maybe I don't like child predators." I snapped. 

"That's harsh, I'm barely older than you." Donavan sighed. 

I slung my backpack onto my shoulders, grabbing my other bags. "I'm going to be late, move." 

I hated the idea of them staying in the apartment after I left. I could only imagine them putting cameras up in the bathroom and our bedrooms. But I also didn't want to stay there any longer. I didn't want them knowing that I was staying with Bucky. 

Brock grabbed my arm and I turned, wrenching it out of his grip. "Back off Brock. You know, if you're so curious why I'm scared even if you've never done anything to scare me, it's things like this. Even if you hadn't gone after Clementine, you both act like creeps. Now let. Me. Leave." I glared at Donavan and after a second, he stepped to the side. 

I bustled past the two of them, wrenching the dorm door open and slammed it behind me. I hurried out of the dorm itself and then paused when I saw John in the hallway. He was opening up the door in front of him and looked over when he saw me. "Oh. Hey!" 

"Hey." I gave him a stressed smile, and then heard the door open up behind me, telling me that Brock and Donavan had just come out of my apartment. 

John glared at them over my shoulder and asked spitefully. "What are you doing here?" 

I backed up just a little bit, edging around John and saw Brock glaring at him as well, while Donavan looked confused. 

"What are you doing here?" Brock sneered. "Thought you were disowned. How did you afford this? Identifying as a girl?" 

John blushed darkly and I felt a pang of sympathy although I continued to make my way towards the elevators, hoping all three of them continued to go at each others' throats. 

"Better than what you're doing." John hissed, pulling his key out of the dorm he was going to go into. 

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Donavan asked as the elevator doors opened. I waited until they were closing to step inside, letting them close in front of me. I let out a relieved sigh, my head thumping against the metal wall. 

The doors slid open and a tense Bucky was standing there, his shoulders relaxing when he saw me. 

"Are you alright?" He asked, hoisting one of my bags over his shoulder, opening the door for me. 

"Fine. It got weird though." I mumbled, forgetting that he didn't even know they had been up there. 

"What?" He asked sharply as he opened the trunk. 

"Well, Brock and Donavan were waiting in my dorm. Clementine's staying at uh, Professor Wilsons' by the way." I added, putting my suitcase in the back. "Anyways, I got them to let me leave but then we ran into John and I still have no idea why he's there, but apparently Brock and John know each other from somewhere." 

"In the car." Bucky said in a tense tone, opening the passenger door which I slid into. His tense demeanor was making my heart race, like we were about to run from the law or something. He slid into the drivers' seat and said, "continue." He peeled away from the sidewalk, speeding down the street. 

"Uh, so he said something about how John had been disowned and shouldn't be at the college cause he couldn't afford it or something like that. And John said it was better than what Brock was doing, but he didn't really expand on what Brock was doing exactly. It was just weird." I sighed, looking out the window. 

I gave a start, feeling fingers wrapping around mine and saw Bucky was holding my hand. I laced my fingers through his slowly. 

"We'll figure it out." Bucky murmured. 

I looked at him for a long time as he drove. Finally, I said. "Bucky, they're just stupid college kids. You're acting like they've got some. . . higher purpose I guess. You don't have to over analyze it, I promise." 

He just squeezed my hand tighter and said nothing more. 

He helped with getting my things inside and then once they were settled into my bedroom, he led me down to where his and Steve's bedroom was, knocking on the door. 

"Y-eah?" Steve called out, sounding distracted. Bucky pushed the door open and my breath caught in my throat. 

He looked so fine, laying on his side on the bed. He was wearing glasses, which I hadn't seen him wear up till that point. His blond hair looked darker from the dim lights and he smiled when he saw the two of us, setting the book aside. "Hey." 

"Hi." Bucky mumbled, leaning in to kiss him. 

"Any problems?" He asked. 

"No." I murmured, leaning awkwardly in the doorway. They looked perfect together and I couldn't help admiring the view. 

"Come here doll." Bucky murmured softly, holding his hand out. 

I took it, letting him pull me onto the bed, nestling down between the two of them. Steve tossed his studies onto the floor, rolling over to sandwich me in between the two men. I sighed, burying my face into his shirt. 

"Is Clementine okay?" 

"She's with Sam apparently." Bucky answered for me, mumbling into my hair. 

"Good, he'll keep her safe." Steve yawned. 

I really didn't mean to fall asleep between the two of them, but with their warmth and Steve's hand comfortably running down my hair and back, repeating that motion over and over again, I drifted off into a blissful sleep.