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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 hours

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the girl next door 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

“Mom, we should get going,” you say as you check your bag.

Your mother sits at the table. It’s cluttered as always. You can see her inhaler amid the mess. Wait, there’s another one. You cross the kitchen, only two steps, and grab both inhalers. You feel the subtle difference between them.

You take both, putting the full one back in the medicine cabinet and the other in the disposal bin. The doctor said the inhalent would help with your mother’s dopamine levels, balances her out a little, but the new treatment only seems to be another symptom of her disease. She hates doing it, she hates all of it, but you can’t blame her for that.

“We can’t be late for the consultation. We’ll be waiting another six months,” you come back to the kitchen.

She looks at you as she wobbles slightly. The tremor is more prominent than before. Each day you notice it more. All the little things changing about her. She’s a bit slower, her words don’t come easy or always clearly, and her mood grows grimmer and grimmer. So does yours.

You grab your purse and the keys. You’ll clean up when you get home. It doesn’t take very long for living to pile up though. Especially when you’re the only one to keep it in order.

Your mother grips the table and stands up. Getting her dressed was a battle already won. Her posture is slightly crooked as she shuffles around the table, “I’m moving.”

You step back, waiting patiently for her to round the table. She grumbles. Your mother was never bright and bubbly but ever since her diagnosis, she’s lost any glimmer of warmth. It’s like she’s living in a fog, just slowly wading through.

You walk down the hall ahead of her and pick out your shoes from the rack. As you kneel to tie your sneakers, she leans on the wall and slides her feet into the orthotic flats. She’s not very old yet. Neither of you expected her to decline so quickly.

You stand and open the door. You back up though the screen door and hold it for her. Her steps get a bit smoother the more she moves around. The permanent scowl sinks into the lines of her face as she comes out onto the porch. You lock the door behind her as she grunts and leans on the railing, stamping down each step to the walkway.

You follow behind her. That’s another problem. The lawn. The old mower broke. You haven’t been able to replace it.

As you trail your mother to the car, she swats you away. Sometimes you try too much for her. You know she must feel helpless. You back up as she sits heavily in the passenger seat and your eyes skim around the neighbourhood. The white sign on the lawn next to yours catches your eye.

You remember the finely dressed woman, her very image on the sign, and how she grimaced at the weeds and grass. If she’s going to sell the property, the neighbours shouldn’t be living in a jungle. You heard her say as much over the phone as she paced back and forth on the porch.

You mother pulls the door shut but it doesn’t click. You give it an extra push to secure it and round the hood. You get in the car and turn the key, rolling down the windows as the early summer morning crowds the tight space. Your mother mutters and wipes her forehead with a shaky hand.

“Let’s just go,” she sneers, “waste of my time...” she bends her arm over the open window, her fingers quivering, “damn doctors said it enough. Nothing they can do. Charlatans.”

“Mom,” you chide gently, “the surgery could help. If you qualify--”

“I heard ya last night,” she snaps. “Just drive.”

You nod and snap your mouth shut. You shift into reverse and back out of the drive. You know better than to talk too much. Your mother never liked hearing anything she didn’t want to hear. Facts are just an attack on her.

You steer down the street slowly, following the curve of the suburban street. The green lawns and white picket fences are palatial at first glance. It’s a 1950s fever dream implanted in the twenty-first century.

Your house is the black stain on an otherwise pristine canvas. The HOA must curse your grandmother for her leaving a perfectly nice home to a pair of beatnicks. You don’t blame them. You’re the puzzle piece that doesn’t fit, leaving a gaping hole in the picture.

The radio crackles on and you wince. Your mother struggles to turn the knob and the volume pendulums up and down. You reach to help her and she smacks your hand, only softly as she has little strength behind it. You retract and grip the wheel, listening to buzzing struggle of her unsteady. You just hope the appointment goes well.

🏠

Your mother hasn’t said much since the appointment. That worries you. What should be good news is just another dark cloud over her.

She sits as she often does; half-reclined in the chair by the window, watching the neighbourhood just outside the pane. She’s just a resentful of the picture-perfect neighbours as she if of everything else. As she is of you.

You tidy the kitchen table as the unsaid dangles in the air. You know better than to bring it up. She barely acknowledged it when the doctor said it. She’s a good candidate for surgery but it isn’t a cure. It will help with the symptoms but not stop them altogether. It’s not good enough for her but it might just be her only hope of relief, even if temporary.

“Bring me a coke,” your mother calls through and you hear the hollow tin clatter of an empty can.

You bring the dirty dishes to the sink and set them beside it. You go to the fridge to grab a red branded can and let the door shut on its own. As you enter the living room, your mother sits forward, the recliner snapping forward with her weight. She leans on and elbow as she squints through the window and cranes over the armrest.

You pick up the old can and put the new one on the small table by the chair. She sits back and takes the Coke, trembling as she struggles to crack the tab. You know better than to help her. The curl in her lip warns you better.

“Someone’s looking at the place next door,” she says.

“Oh?” You move behind her chair and try to the next house. You can only really see the edge of the porch from here. You could open the side window but that would give more than a view of the siding and might be too obvious. “New neighbours.”

“Eh, if it sells. Could do better without these stuck-up prissy bitches running around measuring grass,” she growls of the Home Owners’ Association.

You nod. She’s right. You’ve had to deal with that nosy blonde too many times.

“We’ll see,” she mutters as she finally gets the can open and slurps. “Just hope it’s not another bitch.”

You cross your arms and step closer to the window. You sense movement just beyond your vision and the realtor in her pantsuit comes down the front steps of the neighbouring house. She turns back to face someone you can’t see and speaks to him. Their words are garbled by the barrier of window and wall.

The woman smiles and spins to strut down to the sidewalk. A man follows after, a slow stroll in his long legs. He turns to face the house again and puts his hands in his pockets as he looks up at the facade. His eyes narrow as he considers it.

His gray hair is streaked with remnants of its former blond. If it wasn’t for the colour of his locks, you might not have guessed his age. He’s tall and his shoulders are broad. He’s built finely for any era.

Your mother leans forward again, “heh, lookie there,” she slurs.

She leers through the window as you stare blankly out. A new neighbour just means another person to complain about the lawn; or another person for your mother to complain about. The man pivots on his sole and pauses, his gaze set in your direction. You don’t think he can see you, not with how the sun reflects off the square panes. He stalls for just a moment before he turns complete, striding up towards the realtor.

You back up and retreat toward the kitchen. You mother hums as she continues to snoop through the window. The recliner squeaks beneath her as she shifts in the seat.

“Bit old for a family man,” she tuts.

#dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #series #the girl next door #au #silverfox au #mcu #marvel #captain america

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bigtreefest · 1 day

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Sick of It

Pairing: Boyfriend! Steve Rogers x Girlfriend! Reader one-shot

Summary: Steve looks good in everything and you’re sick of it. That, among other things.

Word count: 1,784

Content/warnings: Crying, comfort, angry feelings, kissing, mentions of body image issues, swears, snacks, non-sexual semi-nudity

A/N: I wrote this a couple weeks ago while I was feeling like absolute crap. I was so stressed and just wanted someone to hold. I know too many people relate. I think Steve would’ve been such a sweetie for this kind of moment.

Comments, likes, reblogs, and asks are so appreciated. Thank you for reading!!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist

“I’m so fucking done.”

You slammed the door to the pantry as Steve looked over his shoulder at you from his spot on the couch.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” His words trailed down to you as stomped down the hall and slammed the door to his room.

Steve sighed and tossed the blanket off his lap, softly padding after you down the corridor. He leaned against the doorframe before lightly knocking with the knuckle of his pointer finger.

“Hey, you alright?” He faintly heard the sliding of his dresser drawers, frantically paired with the sound of clanging hangers in his closet.

Steve opened the door slowly to be met with the sight of you half naked, hoodie stretched over your one arm and head, only accompanied on your body by your socks and underwear.

You grumbled and sighed before pulling the hoodie fully down over your body, looking in the mirror before ripping it off and throwing it at him. Steve didn’t flinch, catching the beige hoodie he had been given in a stylist’s attempt to take him on as a client.

Steve had many pieces of clothing like that: obscure fashion pieces gifted to him because of his celebrity status. To a normal person, they were impractical and weird. Odd shapes for an odd body. They’d only look good on someone as hot as him, broad shoulders, skinny waist, and all. Any time you’d try to put on a piece of the clothing, you felt like it hugged your curves in all the wrong ways.

You sighed, but it was deep and guttural, bordering on a scream. The way every piece of clothing, which looks so trendy and stylish on Steve, draped over your hips in a weird way, drove you nuts. The colors didn’t look as good, the shape was meant for someone else.

You flopped down on the bed, still only in your underwear, as Steve grabbed a hanger, placing the hoodie on it and hanging it back in the closet.

He walked over to you, slotting his legs in between yours which swung off the bed. He leaned forward over you until his arms framed your head, one hand on each side, careful to miss your hair that was sprawled out over the comforter.

When you opened your eyes, you were greeted by a sea of blue. You wanted to melt instantly at the care and concern that Steve’s eyes held, before you remembered why you were so upset.

You rolled on your side with a groan, hiding your face in the plush covers before Steve did his best to brush the hair out of your way.

He continued to softly rub his thumb against your temple. “Jellybean, you wanna tell me what’s going on? What’s got you so upset?”

You sighed before speaking into the blanket covering your mouth. Even Steve’s super soldier hearing couldn’t decipher the muffled sounds.

“Can you try again for me? I didn’t quite catch that.”

You turned slightly and threw your hands over your face in exasperation before peeking through your fingers at the face full of love and kindness that was always waiting on the other side.

“I’m sick of it.” It came out still muffled by your palm, but understandable this time. Steve nodded in an attempt to understand.

“Sick of what, honey? Anything I can fix? Or at least help with?” He helped you up, sitting next to you on the mattress. He attempted to pull you into his lap before your stopped him, pushing his arms off of you.

“No! Stop it, you’re the problem.”

Steve was taken aback. He would never do anything to hurt you, not even accidentally, so he had no idea where this was coming from. He cautiously continued.

“I’m really sorry, bean. What did I do?”

You shook your head before it fell into your hands, tears threatening to dampen the heels of your palms while you sniffled,sucking your emotions back in. You took a deep breath before looking up at him with red eyes.

“You know what? Actually, nothing. I’m overreacting. Forget about it. Maybe I should just go.”

You stood up and began to gather your clothes from the floor when Steve stood to stop you, holding your hands against his chest.

“Wait, Jellybean, come on. If-“

You threw down your hands, releasing them from his grip as you continued to look down at your feet.

“Quit calling me that!! That’s the problem!! I’m not a jellybean!”

His head cocked to the side in confusion. “Honey, what do you mean? I thought you liked that nickname…”

You shook your head as Steve crouched down in an attempt to meet your gaze. “No, because a jellybean would fit in your clothes and look good. And I don’t at all right now.”

Steve cautiously moved a hand to your cheek, finally able to look into your eyes. “Hey, what happened? Did someone say something to you? Did I? If I did anything to make you feel like that, I’m so sorry. You’re so perfect in every single way, what’s making you feel differently?”

His other hand went to your other cheek and you grabbed his wrists, looking down again, kicking your feet. Your next words came out as a whisper. “Everything sucks. I’m exhausted, and my eyes keep twitching because of it. I couldn’t focus to save my life today. I thought coming over here would make me feel better, and I looked in your pantry to see if you had any of the good snacks and of course you don’t because you’re Mr. Healthy! None of your clothes fit or look good on me! I mean, why do your even own half this stuff!? So many pairs of fake glasses, your eyesight’s perfect-no. Better than perfect! You make stuff that’s not even fashionable or practical look good and I’m sick of it!” You were practically yelling now, your words growing in volume the more you kept going.

Steve simply nodded, letting you vent as much as you needed to and taking it all in. He knew he didn’t have good snacks, he had asked if you wanted him to pick up your favorites when grocery shopping last week and you said ‘no, that’s not necessary. I probably shouldn’t tempt myself anyways. I’m trying to be healthier.’ He should’ve gone with his gut. He wouldn’t blame that on you, though.

He knew his clothes were ridiculous, too, but he kept them around because he thought you liked them. And he loved the way they looked on you.

He also knew the game you liked to play of ‘is it a fit or are they just hot,’ looking at the ridiculous clothes designer brands would release and judging whether or not they were high fashion, or just on a person with a nice body. He had just never thought he would be the subject of it, or that it would bring you down this much.

Steve knew you hadn’t been sleeping well for the past month, too, but hadn’t said anything. He could feel the way you tossed and turned at 3am, before you finally fell asleep again an hour later, only to be woken up shortly after by the alarm clock.

You looked up again after Steve had been quiet for too long. You let out a deep sigh. “I’m sorry, Stevie. I think I’m just taking this all out on you because you’re here. Everything but you is wrong today, and I’m taking it out on the one thing that’s here.”

You shook your head, profusely apologizing before Steve pulled you in close against his chest. He kissed the top of your head as he rubbed your back.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Thank you for talking to me. I’m not the enemy here. I’m your teammate. Thank you for letting me in.”

“It just isn’t fair.” You spoke into his chest before looking up into his eyes again.

“Even when you’re concerned you’re still hot, too.” You rolled your eyes before throwing your forehead back in between his firm pecs.

“Steven. Fix it.” Came out mumbled in his shirt.

Steve laughed and nodded before kissing the top of your head again. “I think I have just the thing. Hold on.”

He meant that literally. Steve stood up fully and you wrapped your legs around him, clinging like a koala, as he walked back over to the closet. The fact that he did it so effortlessly made you feel a little better about yourself, but a super soldier could probably do that with anyone.

He browsed the rack and shelves before he found what he was looking for. “Ah, here it is. They let me keep these after I had to pose as part of a construction crew for a mission. Regular people clothes. None of that high fashion bullshit.”

You laughed against his neck before he set you down on the bed. He kissed the tip of your nose before sliding a dark gray sweatshirt over your head and sinking down to his knees to pull the light gray sweatpants up your legs. They fit just how your wanted and you beamed at him.

“Better?” You nodded.

“Perfect. Thank you, Stevie.”

He gave you a wink. “Of course, jellybean. I think these fit you just right, but maybe your outfit’s missing something. I might still have the reflective vest around here somewhere, or maybe you need a good pair of fake glasses to top it off?”

You giggled and pushed his shoulder. “Absolutely not. I think the only thing that could make this better is if you had real snacks in the pantry.”

Just then, the both of you heard a knock on the door. You perked up and looked over Steve’s shoulder before raising an eyebrow at him. Steve looked back at you sheepishly.

“I think your prayers have been answered. I texted Buck and asked him to pick up your favorites the second I heard you huffing while searching through the cabinets.”

You smiled before wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you. You’re perfect, even if it’s a little infuriating how much so.”

Steve laughed and wrapped his arms around you again, carrying you towards the front door to retrieve the package. “Perfection means nothing if I can’t use it to make your life better. I love you, Jellybean.”

You smiled as he set you down on the couch and handed you a bag of snacks before cuddling close and pulling the soft throw blanket back over the two of you. You placed your hand gently on his cheek. “I love you more, Stevie.”

Bonus A/N: What’s your favorite snack/candy? I’m currently rocking with those nerds gummy clusters. So good.

General Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen

#steve rogers #Steve rogers fanfiction #Steve rogers fluff #Steve rogers comfort #Steve rogers x reader #Steve rogers x you #steve rogers angst #marvel #marvel fanfiction #captain America #captain america fanfiction #boyfriend Steve #boyfriend Steve rogers #boyfriend! Steve rogers x girlfriend! reader #boyfriend Steve x girlfriend reader #chris evans #bucky barnes

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florida3exclamationpoints · 2 days

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incorrect skinny Steve & Bucky quote

#this is one of my favorites lol #steve rogers #bucky barnes #captain america #the winter soldier #ca:tws #stucky #marvel #mcu #text post meme #steve text posts

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holylulusworld · 1 day

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Indecent Proposal (17)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Characters: Natasha Romanoff, Jake Jensen

Warnings: established Stucky, caring mobsters, pregnant reader, fluff, implied needy reader and Bucky, candy theft, polyamory

Indecent Proposal (16)

Indecent Proposal masterlist

Two months after Bucky and Steve found out about Rumlow’s plan to get information about them using the nurse, said man disappeared.

No one cared about Brock Rumlow's disappearance. One day, he left town and never got seen again.

People may think Steve and Bucky took care of the annoying thorn in their flesh, but the truth is that they didn’t touch one hair on his head.

“Still nothing?” Bucky watches Natasha stuff the money he brought to her into her bag. Another good investment for the mobster, money for her retirement to Natasha. “Be honest, Nat. Did you take care of him?”

“I told Rumlow that his little stunt with the nurse went too far. He had the order to stay away from your…” she wrinkles her forehead still not understanding your relationship with the mobsters. “Fiancé.”

“We didn’t kill him,” Steve pushes off the wall to look at the pictures on Natasha’s desk. “Even though, we planned on taking him down. Rumlow had it coming.”

Natasha frowns deeply. “If none of us took him down… What happened to him? This doesn’t make sense at all.”

“What if he fucked with the wrong people over?” Bucky scratches his scruffy chin, wondering if the man obsessed with him and Steve annoyed the wrong person. “We can’t be the only people he messed with.”

“I don’t know,” Natasha sighs and rubs her tired eyes. “He’s a good cop.” She rolls her eyes when Steve makes a retching noise. “Believe it or not, he’s not a complete psycho. Rumlow is good at his job. I don’t know what you did to make him lose his mind.”

“We did shit to your little buddy,” Steve grunts. “If someone made him disappear, I owe him one. This way, I didn’t have to get my hands dirty.”

“This must be very funny to you, Rogers,” Natasha wrinkles her nose. “He was a good man and a good cop. It’s too bad he got lost in your web.”

“We didn’t lure him in,” Bucky snaps at Natasha. He glares at her, making sure she knows they did come here to chat. “One day your friend decided he must bring me and Steve down. Does he even know that we maintain peace? No one dares to harm citizens since we took over the throne.”

“I get it,” she huffs. “You are the kings of your kingdom of shit.”

“Careful—” Steve snarls at the redhead. “Our fathers build this kingdom with blood and terror,” the blonde steps closer to Natasha, sizing her up. “Bucky and I changed the old ways. We took their empire and changed it for the better.”

“What do we do about Rumlow now? If he’s dead, people will start asking questions. It’s no secret that he was obsessed with us.”

“I will try to keep you out of this,” Natasha steps away from Steve. She doesn’t want to rile him up even more.

“You’ll keep us up to date,” Steve points his index finger at the redhead. “We need to know every detail of his disappearance…”

“Doll, what are you doing,” Steve laughs. You threatened to cut Bucky’s cock off because he dared to steal a chocolate bar from your secret stash.

“He stole from me!” You pout. “Bucky stole my favorite chocolate bar. It was the last one with hazelnut.” Faking a sob, you look at Steve. “You should scold him.”

“I was hungry after you wanted a taste of Bucky,” the brunette grins. “And you got a whole drawer filled with the sweets. Candies, chocolate bars, all the good stuff. Steve, she’s got a sweet tooth.”

“Not only a sweet tooth,” Steve smirks. “She’s a naughty little minx too.”

“Hey! I’m not little,” you kneel on the bed to glare at Steve. Not months ago, you trembled in fear in front of Steve, and now you talk back and tease the mobster. “You better watch your tongue, or I won’t show you the latest ultrasound picture!”

Bucky watches you and his husband bicker. He smirks and chuckles. The brunette leans back and enjoys the show. “Steve, she’s getting cocky. What will you do about it?”

Steve cocks a brow. His features darken and he smirks at you. “I will spank her cute ass if she gets even cockier.”

You laugh at Steve’s words. He wouldn’t dare put his hands on you. Both men are deadly and strong, but with you, they are soft and gentle. Even if you are a brat and a needy slut sometimes.

“The doctor will be here in half an hour,” Bucky stretches his legs and yawns. It was a long day. Jensen and Bucky tried to find out more about Rumlow’s disappearance over the last hours. “Let’s not fight over stolen candy.”

“I did not forget you stole from my stash, punk!” You poke your index finger into Bucky’s thigh. “You are on thin ice, Sir.”

“Sir, huh?” Bucky licks his lips. “Steve, how long until the doctor arrives.” He looks at his husband.

“Buck. No,” Steve shakes his head. “Last time the doctor almost caught us red-handed.”

“Hmmm…good times,” you nod and sigh dreamily. “Very good times.”

“Your fiancé is healthy,” the doctor murmurs while scribbling down a few notes, “everything looks good. There is nothing to be worried about.” He looks up from his notes. “We should talk about the results of the ultrasound we took today now.”

He clears his throat and looks at you. The elderly man gives you a soft smile. “Can I tell them?”

The doctor chuckles now. “Of course, my dear.”

“Alright,” you clap your hands before grinning at Steve. “I will blow your mind.”

“Please tell me she’s not pregnant with a Tasmanian devil,” Steve mirrors your smirk. “I bet she is. It would explain her bratty behavior.”

“Stevie, let Y/N talk. I wanna know what she wants to talk about,” Bucky grabs your hand. Anytime you have an ultrasound examination he turns into a softie. “Go ahead doll. We are listening.”

You take a deep breath. Suddenly you’re a little nervous. “I-doctor can you tell them?” You chicken out and drop your gaze.

“Fuck! Is something wrong with the baby?” Steve presses one hand to his heart. “Please tell us.”

“Doll…” Bucky holds your hand a little tighter. The usual tough man looks helplessly at his husband. “Stevie?”

“The baby and your fiancé are healthy,” the doctor hastily says. “We got no bad news for you. It’s rather, good news for you and your fiancé, gentlemen.”

“Good news,” Bucky nods at Steve. “Did you hear…good news. Phew.” He sighs deeply. “Thank fuck.”

“What is the good news?” Steve rumbles. He stares at your swollen belly, awaiting an answer. “Doctor?”

You take a deep breath and look at both men. You don’t know if the news is good to them or not. “We—we are having twins!”

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #stucky x reader #pregnant reader #stucky x fem #stucky x female reader #female reader #stucky x y #Indecent Proposal (17)

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steveandnatlover76 · 2 days

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Steve: Come on, Antony. Say da-da! Da-da!

Baby Antony doesn’t say one word.

Natasha: Okay, then. Say ma-ma! Ma-ma!

Antony: F*ck!

Natasha: What the…?! YELENA!!!

#romanogers #black widow #captain america #natasha romanoff #steve rogers #antony rogers #first word #baby antony #yelena belova #domestic avengers #the avengers #my otp

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dbnightingale24 · 2 days

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I'll Wait For Your Love

A StevexReaderxBucky Messy Triangle

Everyone thank my husband because he fixed the wifi! This is only a bit of the final installation of 'My Little Decoy'. You can read the full version here. I didn't finish this as quickly as I wanted to, but it still got done a lot faster than I thought it would (yay anxiety!).

Thank you @fuckingbye for always putting up with my shit, and always making me amazing moodboards because I'm lame as shit. I love you and I can't wait to tackle you with a hug <3.

As always, please heed the warnings and I hope you enjoy it! Here we go!

Word Count: 35,290 (it's called growth)

Warnings: SMUT!! (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), Slight Infidelity, Arguments, Drinking, Smoking, Angst, Swearing, Self Loathing, Fluff, Heartbreak, Lying (by omission), Daddy Kink, Uhh...I think that's it?

Song(s) That Inspired This Chapter: You Cling To Your Papers and Pens, Wait Until You Like Me Again

Summary: When two major parts of your past come back and ask for another chance, do you stand your ground and stay with the life you've created for yourself, or do you decide to test the water after all this time and see if it's worth the leap of faith?

I do not give consent/permission for my works/stories to get posted elsewhere. I do not condone this type of behavior, this is for entertainment purposes only.

It’s weird. You had made peace with never seeing either man again, yet for the past hour, the three of you have been in your kitchen arguing. Bucky snaps at you, Steve defends you, you snap at Bucky, Steve gets you to calm down, Bucky snaps at him, and you threaten to kick him out. Honestly, for the most part, Steve is the mediator. You’re assuming that they have some level of friendship again, or he just doesn’t want to pile anymore guilt and pressure onto you.

It was clear to you that he hadn’t expected Bucky to follow him and, if he hadn’t been so focused on seeing you, he would’ve noticed Bucky’s car. Apparently, with Maria being pregnant, Steve assumed that Bucky hadn’t even noticed his erratic behavior.

He should’ve been right.

“James, I don’t know what you want me to say,” you sigh for what feels like the millionth time as you stir the white sauce on the stove. “I can only apologize so many times, but it’s not like you were in the dark. You saw the connection between Steve and I, and you decided to pursue me anyway. I didn’t start cheating until long after you had-”

“You being in love with Steve was already cheating!” he shouts at you, and you pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Are you ever capable of holding yourself accountable? Or is it only when you know you’re in danger of losing me? You never apologized for cheating and you still won’t fess up to it, you never actually apologized for your behavior when we found out I couldn’t get pregnant, and even now, you’re just throwing it in my face that I cheated on you after you cheated on me. Is that what you came all the way here for? To yell at me and make me feel small in my own home? Because, if it is, you can get the fuck out right now. I don’t need this shit from you, James. I didn’t need it then and I sure as shit don’t need it now,” you say firmly as you finally turn to face him.

You don’t miss the small smile that comes to Steve’s face, before he takes a sip from his beer bottle.

Bucky lets out a frustrated sigh before he ran a hand through his hair, “no, that’s not why I came out here.” “Then what did you come here for?”

“I wanted to see you,” he confesses softly.

You turn and open the oven to check on the salmon, “she’s pregnant, James. That’s what you wanted-” “I wanted it with you and you know that.”

“You cheated with her, James. You cheated with her because you knew it would hurt me the most, you fucked her at work, in our house, and went out with her after work very publicly to make me look like a fool. Then, you denied the whole thing to try and make me feel crazy, like I couldn’t see the lipstick stains on my pillow-”

“You hurt me!”

“Because I couldn’t have a fucking kid? You think that was a fun thing for me to find out?!”

“It wasn’t just the baby! You never loved me in the way that you love Steve, and I tried and tried-”

“Then why not just let me go?!”

“Cause I loved you. I love you.”

“Well, you got married to her a year after I left, and now she’s gonna have your child. Looks like you’re doing just fine.” “Don’t be fucking callous,” he scoffs.

“James, you followed Steve to my home to berate me, and you’re gonna sit there and tell me not to be callous? You went out of your way to have this argument, and for what? Because you couldn’t trap me into being in love with you? Go fuck yourself and die on that fucking cross you’re so desperate to hang yourself from!”

“Darlin’,” Steve snaps and Bucky rolls his eyes.

“I’m sorry, but fuck that. You want me to feel so bad for something I tried to ignore, and that’s not fair! What I did was wrong, but I tried. I defended you, I looked the other way, and never held anything over your head. You constantly went out of your way to hurt me, and I’m supposed to feel bad for finally following my heart? I’m supposed to feel bad because I wouldn’t let you trap me and make me hate myself anymore? Fuck that. I never played you for a fool, you did that shit to yourself, and I refuse to pay penance for it anymore,” you snap as you pour the bow ties into the boiling water. “God, where does your pregnant wife even think you are?”

“I just told her I needed to get out for a while.” “You’re such an asshole. I don’t even like the bitch and I think it’s a low blow. You leave your pregnant wife to tell your ex-wife that you still love her? What the fuck did you think was going to happen? What did you think I was gonna say? You thought I’d see the light and wanna take you back? You married her out of spite, James.”

“I do love her-”

“Well, clearly not enough,” you scoff, “this feels a lot like the pot calling the kettle black, because you love her, but you’re still pining over me? That’s fucking rich, I gotta say. You’re a real piece of work,” you chuckle dryly as you pour yourself another glass.

“I wanted to see you...make sure you’re okay. Nat and Meg won’t tell anyone anything, Meg won’t even talk to me-”

“Well, what the hell did you think was going to happen, James? I’ve been her best friend since we were six. Yeah, she’s not too fucking fond of you after everything that’s happened.”

“So what? You just hate me now?”

“I don’t hate you, you self centered asshole! I should, I have every fucking right to after the last year we spent together, and I wish I did, but I don’t! You’ve been attacking me! I’m sorry that you decided to pursue the one person your best friend was in love with, and I’m sorry that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t love you the way I’ve always loved Steve. I’m sorry that I cheated on you with Steve and it broke your heart even more. However, a lot of this shit could’ve been avoided if you would’ve just stayed away! I’m not your fucking scapegoat anymore, James. You’re finally getting what you want, and you’re still not happy-” “I don’t have you! I don’t have what I want-”

“You had me and then decided to treat me like an object! I can’t do anything about the fact that you treated me like total fucking trash, James! That’s on you, not me,” you state as the timer goes off.

As you turn off the stove top, Charlotte makes her way into the kitchen and sits patiently.

“You know better little miss,” you laugh softly, “go lay down.”

She huffs, but gets up and walks back to her bed nonetheless, and your heart flutters at Steve’s soft chuckle.

“So, that’s it?” Bucky huffs.

“I honestly don’t know what else you expect. I don’t know what more you want to know. Everything you’ve asked, I’ve been honest about, everything you deserve an apology for, I’ve apologized for...what else is there to say? What else is there to do?” you ask as his phone goes off.

Pulling it out (rather aggressively), he mutters, “what the fuck now?” before getting up and storming out, slamming the door shut behind him.

“If he breaks my house, I’ll break his neck,” you mutter, checking on the broccoli, before taking another sip from your glass.

“It’s Maria. She’s been on edge lately. She’s due in two months and she feels like Bucky’s attention is elsewhere.”

“I wonder why,” you scoff. “What about you? Are you gonna rake me over the coals too?”

“You know better than that, honey,” he sighs heavily. “We don’t have to-”

“You might as well, Steve. It’s why you’re here-”

“I’m here because I’ve missed you like crazy, and I wanted to see you. We’ve already gotten farther than I expected us too.”

“Why?”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d wanna see me or not.”

“I was never angry with you, Steve. Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I still cry over it,” you scoff, rubbing your forehead.

“Then why-”

“I couldn’t do that to you, Steve. I loved you. I love you. Breaking up your friendship with Bucky? Stealing you from the Avengers-”

“I told you I’d go with you-”

“But you would’ve felt guilty. Yeah, you’d still love me, and you’d be happy to make a life with me anywhere, but you’d feel guilty. You and Bucky? I knew it could get resolved once I was out of the picture, and for the most part, I was right.”

“You didn’t give me a chance-”

“Because you wouldn’t have been logical about it, babe. Neither of us are ever exactly smart when it comes to each other,” you smile softly and he chuckles with a slight nod. “Please understand that it wasn’t something I did lightly, or that I didn’t think about how much it would hurt you. It seems like I’m always hurting you one way or another, and I’ve never wanted that.”

“We always find ways to hurt each other, darlin’. We can’t seem to get this dance right,” he sighs.

“No, we can’t.”

“Whatever you’re making smells amazing,” he smiles weakly.

“One of the many perks of no longer being an Avenger, I get to work on my cooking skills.”

“You’ve always been the best cook, babe,” he compliments as he gets up and makes his way over to you.

Having him so close to you still makes your brain so foggy, even after all this time.

“I’ll leave after dinner-”

“You don’t have to,” you quickly interrupt. “Neither one of you do. I have spare bedrooms...” “You’re comfortable with us staying here?”

“I mean, I’m already feeding the both of you and I don’t want you to spend the money, when there’s no need.”

“Still the most thoughtful person I know,” he whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, and you lean into his touch. “There is something I have to tell you though.”

“Oh God.”

“They know.”

“They who?” “Everyone. I told Tony I’d be gone for a few days, because no matter what happened today, I knew I was gonna need time to recover, and he kept saying that he needs me to train the new recruits. So, I just folded and told him where I was going.”

“Shit.”

“I’m sorry, I really am, but I needed to see you, darlin’. I had no right and it’s your privacy, but I knew he wouldn’t let me go if I didn’t tell him.”

“No, it’s alright. I’m the one that left the way that I did...”

“He wants to see you, they all do.”

“Steve-”

“I didn’t promise them anything, I just told them I’d let you know.”

“I guess I owe it to everyone, don’t I?”

“That’s for you to decide,” he smirks as his eyes study your face. “You smell like vanilla and strawberries.”

“It’s my soap,” you giggle.

“I feel like I should be angry with you. You looked me in the eyes and lied to me.”

“To be fair, you did the same thing, Rogers. For years.”

“That’s true,” he sighs, backing up and leaning against the kitchen island.

Your confusion is short lived when you hear Bucky come storming back in.

“Are you staying over or not?” you ask as the second timer goes off.

He glares looking from you to Steve, “do you even want me here?”

“Whether I do or don’t isn’t the point. I’ve already made dinner, it’s getting late, and there’s no reason for you to spend money if you don’t have to. If you don’t have to go back tonight, I prefer you to stay where I know you’re safe. The last thing I need is for you to get into an accident on an almost five hour ride home, because you were sulking and not paying attention,” you mutter, dumping the bow ties into a strainer before transfer them to a bowl.

He looks taken aback (in a good way) , before responding with, “thank you,” and grabbing another beer.

“Ya know, I know you two can’t get drunk off of anything I have, but I do have stronger drinks.”

“This is fine, doll. Thank you.”

Well, at least he’s being nicer.

Soon enough, you’re taking the salmon out of the oven and breaking it up, before cutting up the broccoli and adding both to the bow ties. After adding in your homemade white sauce, you add just a bit of lemon juice and mixing it all in together. You can’t lie, it’s nice to cook for someone besides yourself for a change, even if the situation is extremely awkward.

“Uh, darlin’?” Steve asks softly as you take three plates out of your upper cabinet.

“Hmm?”

“Not to be creepy or nosey, but your phone keeps vibrating,” he laughs.

“Ah shit!”

You completely forget to answer the chat between you, Meg, Nat.

“Take as much as you want,” you tell them before sprinting up the steps.

Grabbing it off of the nightstand, you let out a small groan as you see the string of missed texts in the ‘Three Crazies’ chat.

Ms. Widow: I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

Rock n’ Roll Queen: What happened???

Ms. Widow: Steve heard me on the phone with Y/N, and hes taking a few days off go and see her.

Rock n’ Roll Queen: Oh shit! Oh SHIT!

Ms. Window: I think Buck is going too, or something, cause he took a few days off too. Maria found out and she’s freaking the fuck out.

Rock n’ Roll Queen: Fuck.

Ms. Widow: The whole fucking compound is buzzing, and Bruce is more than upset with me. Y/N, I’m really so sorry.

Rock n’ Roll Queen: Has anyone said anything to you?

Ms. Widow: No, Tony’s been pacing all day and the team is kind of dumbfounded. No one knew where she was, now, both Steve and Bucky are off to see her. No one knows why the divorce happened...no one knows anything.

Rock n’ Roll Queen: Babe, has anyone said anything? Has anyone showed up?

Ms. Widow: Oh God, please answer.

Rock n’ Roll Queen: Starting to get worried here, babe.

Ms. Widow: Please don’t hate me. I’m so damn sorry. I didn’t know Steve was even around.

Y/N: They’re here now, both of them are downstairs eating dinner, and they’re staying over tonight. I’ll talk more after dinner when I’m getting ready for bed. I could never hate you, Nat. You should know that by now.

You place your phone in your back back pocket and run a stressed hand through your hair, pacing before you remember they can both hear you and just stand in the middle of your bedroom. How was everything spiraling so fast? How the fuck were you supposed to explain things without saying too much? Oh God, how the fuck were you gonna deal with Maria?

All of these thoughts were giving you a headache, and you’re growing hungrier by the second. Racing back downstairs, you walk right by the two sets of inquisitive eyes, and make yourself a large helping of the pasta dish into a bowl before showering it with a generous helping of Parmesan cheese.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?” Steve is first to ask, but the look on Bucky’s face lets you know he’s just as worried.

“Everything is fine, just having a day,” you mutter, grabbing a fork and your drink before making your into your living room, and curling up on the couch.

You honestly aren’t even mad at them, but you’re now trying to navigate how all of this is going to work. You’d closed that chapter of your life, and had dealt with things in your own way, but now? Now, everyone knows and for as much as you hate to admit it, they deserve an explanation. It doesn’t matter that you technically did everything by the book (turning in all your weapons and any sensitive and classified details you had), you still abandoned your friends. The family you got to create. All they want is to see you and know that you’re okay, and who are you to say no? None of them did anything to deserve that.

God, you hope they don’t think you’ll stay. You have no desire for that life anymore, nor do you feel like seeing Maria’s smug fucking face anymore. No, you’re life isn’t exactly quiet now, but it’s a lot more calm and a lot more stable. You have your job, your fur baby, your home-

“Darlin’,” Steve sighs as he sits at the other end of the sofa.

You hadn’t even noticed that Charlotte had sensed your anxiety and stress, and curled up by your toes.

“I’m sorry, this is my fault-”

“I’m the one who walked away like I did, Steve.”

“Be that as it may, I-we disrupted your privacy. No, I didn’t expect Bucky to follow me, but I...I just needed to see you and didn’t think about anything else. I haven’t seen much of your life out here, but I can tell it’s quiet, you’re happy, and you’re finally at peace. Now, you have a million questions to answer and people to answer to. I’m really sorry, honey.”

“It’s...it’s fine,” you sob, not even understanding why you’re crying.

All at once, all of these emotions just overwhelm you, and you feel as if you’re drowning.

“Darlin’?!”

“What the hell did you do to her?!” you hear Bucky faintly yell.

Everything seems to fade around you and all sound is lost. Your family, friends, past...you have to face them all. Everything you’ve tricked yourself into thinking you’ve healed from is all of a sudden back in your life at once; the scabs all feel torn off and bleed again. Without warning, no easing back into it, and you have no idea what to expect. What if everyone hates you? What if no one even wants to see you? Is Maria the favorite now? Is she in your old office? You faintly feel someone wrap their arms around you, and you honestly don’t care which one of them it is, you just cling to them in a weak attempt to bring yourself back down.

“Darlin’, you’re okay, it’s all okay. Buck and I are right here,” Steve promises with worry laced in every word as he softly rubs your back.

He pulls you close and you can tell he’s trying to regulate your breathing with his own.

“I need you to breathe for me, pretty girl. Deep breaths,” he coos softly.

“M...Meg! Please call Meg,” you sob.

“Call Meg!” he repeats harshly towards Bucky, and you hate yourself for how worried they both are.

You pray that they don’t start arguing, because you don’t know what the hell you’ll do, and you can faintly hear Charlotte whining and feel her little paws on your lap. You haven’t had a panic attack since your second night there, and she’s never seen you have one.

This is only a bit of the final installation of 'My Little Decoy'. You can read the full version here.

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