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brunchable · 15 days

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𝐌𝐫. 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 | Stucky x f!reader.

Part Two | Four Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!reader, Steve Rogers x f!reader | Daughter of Thaddeus Ross (Red Hulk) Words: 5.8K Themes: Forbidden/Off-Limits Reader, Love Triangle, M for Mature, 18+ , Post-Endgame, AGE GAP (24y/o reader). Summary: Steve and Sam discuss Steve’s lingering thoughts about the mysterious woman he danced with at a party, while Bucky continues his therapy sessions with Y/N. Y/N ends her engagement with Ethan, leading to a tense confrontation with her father, Thaddeus Ross, who pressures her to maintain the arrangement for political reasons. Y/N’s growing connection with Bucky becomes more apparent, but her father's expectations weigh heavily on her, leaving her conflicted about her future. A/N: Steve's song can be One Kiss by Dua lipa lmao.

taggies: @astrelz @pattiemac1

Steve and Sam had just finished their usual morning run, both catching their breath as they walked toward a bench, sandwich in hand, their usual routine after.

Steve’s hair was still damp with sweat, and Sam wiped his forehead with the back of his hand as they found a park bench. The park bustled with early morning energy—people in suits rushing, joggers taking a break, and the steady hum of traffic in the distance.

"You know, you’re getting slower, Cap," Sam teased, flashing Steve a grin as they sat down.

Steve smirked, settling on the bench. "I thought I’d take it easy on you."

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, right. Three days ago, you were out there dancing like you had moves I’d never seen before, and now you’re holding back on a run?"

Steve sighed, "You’re not gonna let that go, are you?"

"Nope. You’ve been quiet since that night. A little too quiet, if you ask me."

Steve avoided Sam’s gaze, watching the pigeons on loitering around. "It was just... a one time thing."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Just a one time thing? Come on, man, I saw you two. There was something going on out there, and it wasn’t just the music."

"I don’t even know who she is." Steve finally looked up, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Doesn’t matter," Sam replied, shrugging as he took a big bite. "You don’t need to know her to know that something clicked. That’s why you’ve been all broody these past few days."

Steve sighed, leaning back in his chair and looking out at the city as it buzzed with life around them. The memory of her—of the girl he’d danced with—had stayed with him, playing in his mind over and over. Her smile, the way she moved, the way it felt like the rest of the world had disappeared for those few moments.

"I don’t even know her name, Sam," Steve finally admitted.

"So what?" Sam shrugged. "You’ve got instincts, right? If it felt right, you should do something about it."

Steve glanced over at him. "And do what? Ask around for the girl I danced with at a party I didn’t even want to go to?"

Sam grinned. "It worked for Cinderella."

Steve rolled his eyes, but Sam didn’t let up.

"All I’m saying is, you don’t get moments like that every day. Whatever happened on that dance floor, it’s been on your mind for three days. That means something."

Steve opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, a cyclist zoomed past them, so close that their Sam almost dropped his sandwich. Both Steve and Sam jerked back in surprise.

"Whoa!" Sam shouted after the cyclist. "Watch where you’re going!"

"This city..." Steve shook his head, laughing softly.

"You know, you could’ve used that super-soldier strength to tackle the guy." Sam pointed.

Steve gave him a deadpan look. "Yeah, that would’ve gone over real well. Captain America assaults cyclist—makes headlines."

Sam laughed, but the seriousness returned to his voice a moment later. "Look, man, I know you’ve been out of the game for a while, but you deserve to live a little. If that girl gave you even a glimpse of something good... you should try to find her."

Steve stared into the distance, the thought hanging in the air. Could he really track her down? Did he even want to?

"Trust me," Sam added, "might be worth a shot."

Steve sat in silence for a moment, thinking it over. Sam’s words weighed on him, the idea of taking a chance—of finding her again—slowly growing in his mind.

Before Steve could say anything, a group of women walked past their bench. One of them glanced back, her eyes widening as she recognized him. She stopped in her tracks, tugging on her friend’s arm.

"Oh my God, aren’t you... Captain America?"

Steve sighed inwardly, but a polite smile spread across his face. "Not anymore," he said smoothly, pointing to Sam, "he is."

The women turned their wide-eyed stares to Sam, and for a moment, there was stunned silence. Sam blinked, his expression somewhere between amused and baffled.

"Oh... um..." one of the women stammered, clearly caught off guard.

Sam shot Steve a playful glare, then broke into a broad grin. "That’s right," he said, leaning back in the bench with exaggerated confidence. "I’m the new and improved model."

The women giggled, their surprise quickly turning into admiration. "Can we get a picture with both of you?" one of them asked.

Sam didn’t miss a beat. "Only if you tag me as the real Captain America."

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. "Come on, let’s get this over with."

The women quickly snapped a picture, and after thanking them with enthusiasm, they moved on, still buzzing with excitement. As they walked away, Sam shot Steve a mischievous grin.

"You know, I really should start charging for these appearances," Sam said.

Steve rolled his eyes but smiled. "Maybe you should."

As Steve sat back down, Sam shook his head, laughing. "Man, even when you’re trying to lay low, you can’t avoid the spotlight."

Steve gave him a half-smile, but his mind was elsewhere. He stared out at the busy street, Sam’s words echoing in his head.

"Maybe you’re right," Steve said quietly.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "About what?"

"About finding her," Steve said, his voice firming up, “I mean. . . my life has been feeling a bit dull.”

Sam grinned, slapping Steve on the shoulder. "Now that’s what I like to hear."

Steve shifted on the bench, a new determination building inside him. He didn’t know how he was going to do it, but Sam was right.

× × × ×

Back at the mansion, Y/N barely had time to settle in when her father stormed into the room. Thaddeus was not a man easily angered, but when he was, the entire house felt the weight of it. Today was one of those days. His presence loomed large as he stood rigid in the doorway, his eyes cold and piercing.

“I just got word that you ended your engagement,” Thaddeus’s voice was sharp, each word cutting through the air. His hands clenched into tight fists at his sides as he took a step forward. “Without even telling me.”

Y/N’s heart raced, but she stood her ground, refusing to shrink under his gaze. “I didn’t need your permission, Dad. It was my decision.”

Thaddeus’s eyes narrowed, his face hardening. “Your decision?” His voice rose in fury as he closed the distance between them, looming over her. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? This wasn’t just some personal arrangement, Y/N. This was a political move—a way to solidify alliances. And now, you’ve destroyed it.”

Y/N could feel the tension radiating from him, but she refused to let his anger rattle her. “There was no love between us, and you know it,” she snapped back, her voice steady despite the pounding in her chest. “I wasn’t going to marry someone just because it suited your politics.”

Thaddeus’s expression darkened, his jaw clenched. “This isn’t about love. This is about duty. This is about the family, about what we stand for! You’ve always been reckless, thinking you can make decisions like this without understanding the consequences.”

“Oh my gosh! Duty? So are we some part of the royal family?,” Y/N shot back, her voice trembling but resolute. “I couldn’t live a lie anymore.”

Thaddeus’s laugh was bitter, “You’ve never had to live the life I’ve lived, Y/N. You’ve always had everything handed to you, protected from the real world, from real responsibility. Well, guess what? Life isn’t about what you want. It’s about what you have to do. It’s about playing your part.”

Y/N felt the weight of his words sinking in, but she wouldn’t back down. She’d made her choice, and for the first time, she’d done it for herself.

“You better take it back,” Thaddeus ordered, his voice low and menacing. “Call him. Fix this. The engagement is not over.”

Y/N blinked, stunned by the sheer audacity of his demand. “Take it back?” She let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “You want me to go back to Ethan? To a man who’s still in love with his ex? That’s what you want?”

Thaddeus didn’t flinch. “It’s what’s necessary.”

“Necessary for you,” Y/N said, her voice rising as the frustration bubbled over. “You’re already president! What more do you need? This is my life, Dad. Not another political maneuver you can use to your advantage.”

Thaddeus’s gaze sharpened, his lips thinning into a hard line. “You don’t understand how the world works. You’re my daughter. Everything you do reflects on this family, on me. You think you can run around making decisions on a whim? That’s not how this works.”

“I won’t go back to him,” Y/N said firmly, her voice steady with defiance.

Thaddeus stepped closer, his voice low but dripping with cold authority. “You don’t have a choice. In a month’s time, I’ll be introducing you to the world. The daughter of President Thaddeus Ross. You will stand by my side and play your part, whether you like it or not. You’re not just my daughter. You are an extension of everything I’ve built.”

Y/N felt the suffocating weight of his words settling over her, like a blanket she couldn’t shake off. She had always known that being Thaddeus Ross’s daughter came with expectations, but now, more than ever, she felt like she was nothing more than a pawn in his grand political game.

“I won’t be part of your plans,” she said, her voice quieter but laced with firm defiance.

Thaddeus’s eyes bore into hers, his face hardening into a cold, unreadable mask. “You already are,” he said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Without another word, he turned and stormed out of the room, leaving Y/N standing there, her hands trembling as the enormity of his expectations pressed down on her shoulders. The life she wanted, the freedom she craved—it all seemed further away than ever.

× × × ×

Y/N sank onto the couch, her mind racing. Ending things with Ethan had felt like the right decision, but her father’s reaction made her question everything. Could she ever escape this life? Could she ever truly be free from her father’s control?

Her gaze drifted around the room, settling on a framed photograph sitting on the mantle—one of the few pictures she had of her mother. It was old, faded at the edges, a reminder of a woman she never got the chance to know. After her parents had separated when she was just a baby, her mother had disappeared from her life completely. All Y/N had were secondhand stories and a face in a photograph.

Her father never talked about her mother, and Y/N had stopped asking questions long ago. But sometimes, like now, she couldn’t help but wonder what her life might have been like if she’d had her mother around—someone who could have balanced her father’s rigid expectations, someone who could have shown her what it meant to live freely.

But that life had never been an option. Her mother was gone, and her father was all she had. As much as she tried to carve out her own path, the weight of being Thaddeus Ross’s daughter was always there, pulling her back in.

Her thoughts drifted away from the heaviness of her family and back to her recent encounters with Bucky. There was something about him, something different from everything else in her life. He didn’t push, didn’t demand. He just... was. And that simplicity, that calmness—it was starting to mean more to her than she had anticipated.

Her thoughts shifted to Ethan when she noticed a missed call from him. She stared at her phone for a long moment. They hadn’t spoken since she called off the engagement, and part of her wanted to ignore him. She had made her choice—there was nothing more to say. But curiosity tugged at her. What could he possibly want now?

With a resigned sigh, Y/N tapped on his number and brought the phone to her ear. It rang twice before Ethan picked up, his voice cool and calculated, as always.

“Y/N.”

“Ethan,” she replied, her tone cautious. “I saw your missed call. What do you want?”

There was a brief pause before Ethan spoke again, his voice more measured than before. “I’ve been thinking about everything that happened. About the engagement.”

Y/N’s defenses went up instantly. “There’s nothing more to talk about. I ended it.”

“I know, and I’m not calling to argue that,” Ethan said, his voice calm. “I get why you did it. I’ve been thinking about what you said. Maybe you were right, but that doesn’t change what’s happening around us.”

“What are you getting at, Ethan?” Y/N pressed, her voice sharp. “Why are you calling me?”

“Look, this isn’t easy for me to explain over the phone,” Ethan replied, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. “But we’re in a complicated situation right now, both of us. And it’s not just about us—it’s about our families and that event your dad wants to hold.”

Y/N sighed, already feeling exhausted by the conversation. “I know all of that. But I’m not going back to the way things were, Ethan. I’m done.”

“I’m not asking you to go back to that,” Ethan said quickly, his voice becoming more urgent. “Just... hear me out. I have a plan, a way for us to manage this without blowing everything up.”

Y/N frowned. “What kind of plan?”

“It’s hard to explain,” Ethan replied, his voice vague and careful, almost too careful. “But I’ve been thinking. There’s a way to do this... to make sure we both come out of this in one piece. But you’re going to have to trust me.”

Y/N’s stomach churned. “Trust you? Ethan, I ended things because I didn’t want to keep pretending. You want me to trust you with something you won’t even explain?”

“I know it sounds like I’m asking for a lot,” Ethan admitted, his voice softening slightly. “But trust me when I say I’m looking out for both of us here. I’m not going to let this get messy—for you or for me.”

Y/N clenched her jaw, frustrated by his vagueness. “You can’t expect me to just go along with this without knowing what you’re planning.”

Ethan sighed heavily. “I get it. I do. But right now, I can’t give you all the details. It’s just... complicated, I’m arranging plenty of things okay? And I need you to trust me on this. You don’t want to deal with the fallout if we handle this the wrong way.”

Y/N bit her lip, her mind racing. The idea of trusting Ethan after everything felt absurd, but something about the way he was speaking, the way he kept insisting, made her pause. She hated the thought of going along with anything Ethan was plotting, but part of her wondered if he was right—if handling things the wrong way could make everything worse.

“And what exactly am I supposed to do in the meantime?” Y/N asked, her voice low, testing the waters.

“For now, just... we act like we did before,” Ethan replied, sounding almost relieved that she hadn’t hung up. “Just let things settle. Your dad becoming President is a huge deal.”

Y/N sighed, feeling the weight of it all pressing down on her. “I’m not going to pretend forever, Ethan.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Ethan said, his voice firm. “But this is bigger than us right now. Just... trust me. I promise you, it won’t be like this for long. I want out as much as you do.”

Y/N sat in silence, conflicted. She didn’t trust Ethan—not completely—but the idea of making things messier, of causing a scandal in the middle of her father’s presidency, made her stomach churn. She didn’t know if she had it in her to make things worse for everyone involved.

“I’ll think about it,” Y/N finally said, her voice hesitant but tired.

“Sure, think about it, but don’t dwell on it too long.”

Y/N ended the call and placed her phone down on the coffee table, staring at it for a moment. She had always thought that ending the engagement would free her, but even now, it felt like she was still trapped, still playing a role in a life she didn’t want.

Her mind drifted to Bucky, to the quiet ease of their encounters. There were no plans, no demands, no complicated webs of politics and expectations with him. He was just... Bucky. And right now, more than anything, that simplicity was what she needed.

× × × ×

Session 2

Bucky sat with his arms crossed over his chest, his body tense. The room was quiet, save for the soft ticking of a clock on the wall, and the distant murmur of voices outside the door. He glanced around the room, his eyes landing on the notebook in Y/N’s hands. She was back in her professional attire—hair neatly pulled back, glasses perched on her nose, and her demeanor all business.

Therapist mode.

It felt strange to Bucky now. Over the past few days, he’d run into her outside the office—at the market, at the coffee shop—and each time, she had been different. Relaxed. Playful, even. It was hard to take her seriously now, after seeing her “real” character, the carefree woman who laughed easily and joked around. This version of her felt stiff, too controlled.

“So,” Y/N began, her voice calm and measured, as she glanced up from her notes, “let’s talk about the list.”

Bucky frowned. “The list?”

“Your amends list,” she clarified, looking him directly in the eye. “The one you’ve been working on.”

Bucky shifted in his seat, his eyes flicking to the window. “Right. That.”

Y/N remained unfazed, her gaze steady as she waited for him to continue. “You’ve made some progress,” she said, glancing at the file on her lap. “But there are still names on that list, aren’t there?”

Bucky hesitated, then shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, there are names.”

Y/N nodded, her expression neutral. “How does it feel, working through it?”

Bucky sighed, glancing back at her. “Honestly? It feels like a damn chore,” he muttered, not hiding his frustration. “I’m sorry, but I’m finding it hard to take this seriously.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting more. “Why is that?”

A smirk tugged at his lips. “Well, it’s a little tough taking therapy advice from someone who I’ve seen spill her coffee and laugh about it, or humming ‘80s pop hits while picking out apples at the grocery store.” He shrugged, the smirk widening slightly. “It’s like... therapist by day, party animal by night. Hard to keep a straight face after that.”

Y/N stared at him, her expression completely unchanged, the silence in the room growing heavier by the second.

Bucky’s smirk faltered slightly as the silence in the room dragged on. He shifted in his seat, suddenly feeling like he was under a spotlight.

“Tough crowd,” he muttered, letting out a short laugh.

Y/N didn’t budge. She kept her gaze on him, unblinking, before calmly responding, “It’s not about me, Sergeant. It’s about you and the work you’re doing here.”

Bucky’s smirk faltered. He hadn’t expected her to call him out so bluntly. He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess.”

Y/N continued, her voice steady but a little softer. “I get that it might feel strange after seeing me in a different context. But here, this is the space where we work through things. You can joke, but the process still matters.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched. He wasn’t used to this version of Y/N. Outside, she had been easygoing, someone he could joke with. But here? She wasn’t giving him any leeway.

He sighed, his hands resting on his lap. “Yeah, well... it’s not just that. The whole list... It feels pointless sometimes. What’s the point of making amends when none of them will ever forgive me?”

Y/N’s expression softened, though her gaze remained steady. “It’s not about them forgiving you, Sergeant. It’s about you finding a way to forgive yourself.”

Those words hit a little too close to home, and Bucky shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Easier said than done.”

Y/N leaned back slightly, giving him some space. “Of course it is. But you’ve already started. You’ve been facing those demons. You’re not running anymore.”

Bucky met her eyes, feeling the tension in his body slowly ease.

Y/N flipped to another page in her notes. “You said you’ve crossed a few names off the list. Tell me about them.”

Bucky hesitated. He wasn’t used to opening up like this, but something about Y/N—therapist mode or not—made it a little easier to talk. “There’s this one... Yori. His son... I killed him. Not on purpose, but... it happened. I still haven’t told him the truth.”

Y/N stayed quiet, giving him the space to continue.

“I’ve been spending time with him,” Bucky went on, his voice quieter now. “He doesn’t know why I’m there, though. He just thinks we’re friends. And I—” He stopped, his throat tightening again. “I can’t bring myself to tell him. How do you do that? How do you tell someone that you’re the reason their son is dead?”

Y/N’s gaze softened, but she didn’t offer easy answers. “You don’t have to rush that conversation,” she said gently. “You’re allowed to take the time you need. But when the moment comes, you’ll know. And it’ll be the hardest thing you’ve ever done. But it might also be the first real step toward healing.”

Bucky clenched his fists in his lap, the weight of her words settling over him. Healing. It felt impossible sometimes.

For a moment, there was silence between them. Y/N scribbled something in her notebook, then glanced up at him again. “You’ve done more than you realize. You’re facing these things head-on, even when they terrify you. And that... that takes courage.”

Bucky scoffed softly. “Courage, huh?”

Y/N smiled faintly. “Yes, courage. You’re here, aren’t you?”

Bucky met her eyes for a long moment, something unspoken passing between them. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it felt... different. Like she understood him more than most people ever could.

“Yeah,” Bucky said quietly, glancing down at his hands. “I’m here.”

And for now, that was enough.

× × × ×

After Bucky's session, Y/N sat at her desk, absently scrolling through her emails. A new message popped up, and her heart sank when she saw the subject line: Event Details – Ross Family Introduction.

She hesitated for a moment before clicking on it, her stomach churning as she read through the formal invitation. In a month’s time, her father was planning to host a grand event where he would officially introduce her to the public—his secret family, finally revealed. It wasn’t just a casual introduction; it was a spectacle, one that would change her life forever.

The ornate wording of the invitation made her feel even more trapped. There was no escape from this. Her father expected her to be perfect, to play the role of the ideal daughter, to smile and wave and uphold the pristine image of the Ross family.

Her phone buzzed, pulling her attention from the email. It was a text from her father: We’ll go over everything soon. Be prepared.

Y/N stared at the message, the weight of it all hitting her again. She was being groomed for a life she didn’t want, expected to conform to an image she didn’t recognize.

She leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples, her mind drifting away from the impending event. Her thoughts wandered back to earlier that day, to her session with Bucky. She had kept her cool, remained professional, but one thing from that session stood out more than the rest: the moment Bucky had called her a party animal.

The comment had caught her off guard at the time, and now, thinking back on it, something about it gnawed at her. A faint, fleeting thought crossed her mind, one she quickly dismissed—but it returned just as fast. Could Bucky have been the guy she danced with at the party?

Her heart skipped a beat at the memory of the man on the dance floor. No, she reasoned. It couldn’t be him. The guy she kissed looked different. His hair was shorter, his face was less familiar. And yet, something about the way Bucky had looked at her earlier, the way he had joked about seeing her outside of therapy, lingered in her mind.

But Bucky couldn’t be the same guy. Could he?

She sighed, shaking her head. She was overthinking it. There was no way Bucky was the mysterious man from the party. The man looked different, acted differently. And yet, the thought wouldn’t fully leave her.

Y/N glanced back at the screen, at the email detailing the event that awaited her. The weight of her father’s expectations pressed down even harder now, but her mind remained distracted, circling back to Bucky and the lingering feeling of familiarity she couldn’t quite shake.

× × × ×

It was late afternoon, and the air was warm with a gentle breeze as Y/N jogged along the park’s winding path. She loved this time of day—when the sun was low in the sky, casting everything in a golden light. It was the perfect time to clear her head, especially with everything weighing on her lately. Her thoughts kept drifting back to the event her father had planned, but out here, she could forget about it for a while.

Dressed in a sports bra and yoga pants, she moved easily along the trail, her ponytail swaying behind her as she ran. The beat of her music thumped in her ears, the rhythm of her steps in sync with the song. She was feeling good, maybe even a little confident—until she noticed two figures up ahead.

She slowed her pace slightly, squinting as she recognized them. It was Bucky and Steve, both casually walking along the path, deep in conversation. For a moment, Y/N considered veering off onto another trail, but it was too late—Bucky had already spotted her.

“Y/N?” Bucky’s voice called out.

Y/N slowed to a jog, then stopped a few feet in front of them, catching her breath. She pulled out her earbuds, her skin glistening slightly with sweat.

“Hey, Sergeant Barnes,” she greeted with a teasing smile, her breath still coming in short bursts. She gave a quick nod to Steve. “Captain Rogers.”

Steve smiled, his eyes flickering briefly over her before meeting her gaze. “Just Steve, please.”

“Didn’t expect to see you out here.” Bucky seemed momentarily distracted, his gaze lingering on her a little longer than usual.

“Same. But I try to get a run in whenever I can.” Y/N grinned, leaning down for a second to catch her breath, aware of how her outfit might look.

Steve, ever the polite gentleman, stepped forward, hand reaching for a shake, “Nice to meet you. You must run a lot to be out here in this heat.”

“It’s my way of staying sane.” She flashed a smile, quickly shaking Steve’s hand.

Bucky’s gaze hadn’t left her, and she couldn’t help but notice the slight flicker of something in his expression—was it surprise? Amusement? She couldn’t quite tell, but it gave her a bit of a thrill.

“So, are you two just out for a walk?” she asked, wiping the sweat from her brow, subtly glancing at Bucky again. She couldn’t help but recall the lingering thought from a few days ago—could Bucky have been the guy from the party?

“Yeah,” Steve answered, a light chuckle in his voice. “Bucky’s been showing me the less crowded areas. He likes to keep things... quiet.”

“Like I said, no need to be recognized every five minutes.” Bucky scoffed.

Y/N chuckled, catching her breath fully now. “Smart.”

There was a brief silence, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel a little awkward standing there in front of them, especially with how intensely Bucky was watching her. She shifted slightly, not entirely sure why she felt so on edge around him, especially after the last session. The whole party animal comment still gnawed at the back of her mind.

“So... how’s the list going?” she asked, throwing the question at Bucky, more as a distraction than anything.

“Even on a jog, huh? I thought we weren’t in therapy mode right now.” Bucky smirked, raising an eyebrow.

“Just curious. But if it’s confidential, I’ll back off.”

Steve glanced between them, an amused smile creeping across his face. “Looks like you two know each other. . .well?”

“Yeah, we’ve crossed paths a few times.” Bucky shrugged, still watching Y/N.

“More than a few,” Y/N added playfully, though her heartbeat seemed to stay quickened.

Steve gave a nod, his curiosity piqued. “Interesting.”

“Well, I’d better get back to my run. You guys enjoy your walk.” Y/N straightened, glancing between the two of them.

Before either of them could respond, Y/N turned and jogged off, feeling their eyes on her as she went. She could almost sense Bucky’s gaze lingering a little longer than it should have. Her mind raced, that same nagging thought creeping back in: could it really have been Bucky at the party?

As she rounded a corner and left them behind, she couldn’t help but glance back, catching Bucky’s eyes one last time. No, it couldn’t be him. Could it?

× × × ×

Bucky watched as Y/N jogged away, her form disappearing around the bend of the path. She was hard to ignore—especially dressed like that, with her confidence and energy radiating off her. It was a stark contrast to the calm, composed version of her he’d seen in their sessions.

What made it worse, though, was the fact that he knew. He knew Y/N was the woman Steve had danced with, the one he kissed at the party. Steve hadn’t figured it out, hadn’t made the connection. But Bucky had. He’d recognized Y/N after seeing her many times, her face too familiar to forget. But he hadn’t said anything. He didn’t know why he kept it to himself—maybe because it wasn’t his business.

His mind wandered back to what she said earlier—about the list. Even outside of the office, she seemed to care about his progress. But Bucky had to admit, something about seeing her like this, away from their usual serious conversations, made it harder for him to keep things professional in his head. Especially with her jogging off like that.

“You’re staring, Buck.”

Bucky blinked, forcing himself to look away. “No, I’m not.”

“You are. And don’t try to deny it.” Steve chuckled.

Bucky shook his head, trying to play it off. “I wasn’t... I was just—” He trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence.

“You were just... admiring the view?” Steve teased, a knowing smile creeping across his face.

“Shut up, man.” Bucky shot him a glare, but it lacked the bite.

Steve’s grin widened. “I get it. She’s... hard to miss.”

Bucky exhaled, his jaw tightening. He hated how obvious he must have looked. “It’s not—She’s... she’s my therapist, kinda. It’s complicated.”

“Oh, so it is like that.” Steve raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’ve got a thing for your therapist?”

Bucky shot him another glare. He DID NOT have a thing for her, but ever since the first time he ran into her outside of their sessions, he’d been struggling to reconcile the two versions of Y/N—the professional therapist and the carefree woman he kept bumping into. And now, seeing her like this? It wasn’t helping.

“No, I don’t,” Bucky said, though it sounded more defensive than he intended. “She’s just... different than I thought. That’s all.”

Steve chuckled again, shaking his head. “Whatever you say, Buck. But from where I’m standing, it seems like she’s gotten under your skin.”

Steve watched as Bucky’s eyes lingered on the spot where Y/N had disappeared around the bend. He could tell Bucky was trying to play it cool, but it was obvious—Y/N had thrown him off his game. Steve knew Bucky well enough to recognize when something, or someone, had shaken him.

“You know, she seems pretty cool,” Steve said casually, watching for Bucky’s reaction. “Smart, confident. You don’t see that every day.”

Bucky grunted in response, still not looking at him.

Steve smirked, deciding to push a little further. “So, how long have you known her?”

Bucky shrugged, clearly trying to downplay it. “Not long. We’ve just run into each other a few times. Nothing major.”

Steve wasn’t buying it. There was more to this than Bucky was letting on.

“Uh-huh. And you didn’t mention her before because...?”

Bucky finally looked over at Steve, his face guarded. “Because there’s nothing to mention.”

Steve gave him a look, the same one he’d been giving Bucky since the ‘40s whenever Bucky tried to avoid a subject. “Right. You’re just staring after her because... nothing.”

Bucky let out an exasperated sigh. “Look, she’s a therapist I’m seeing for some stuff. That’s it. I didn’t bring it up because it’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal. Well, she clearly left an impression on you. The way you were watching her jog away... if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were interested.”

Bucky frowned, throwing his arms in the air. “I am not interested, Steve.”

Steve smiled, leaning in a little. “You sure about that? Because it seems to me like maybe it’s a little more complicated than you’re letting on.”

Bucky shook his head.

Steve’s smile softened, and he gave Bucky a nudge. “Look, man. I’m not saying you have to do anything about it. But maybe... don’t ignore whatever you’re feeling. You’ve been through a lot. It’s okay to let someone in.”

Bucky didn’t respond, his jaw tightening again. Steve knew he wasn’t going to push it any further for now, but he could see it—Y/N had definitely gotten under Bucky’s skin, whether Bucky was ready to admit it or not.

As they continued their walk, Steve glanced over at Bucky, a small grin playing on his lips. He’d keep this little observation to himself for now, but he’d definitely be keeping an eye on this whole situation. Something told him this wasn’t the last time Y/N was going to cross their paths.

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