Jun 9, 2025
that moment when you realize all three sisters have their own god damned bucky barnes ------
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that moment when you realize all three sisters have their own god damned bucky barnes ------
𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗟𝗘𝗦𝗦 𝗘𝗗𝗜𝗧𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗔𝗡𝗬𝗔 𝗕𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗘𝗦. ┈┈ feat. @sisterstill / @malyshpauk @redguardcen mutuals only may interact/reblog. roleplay blogs only , no personal blogs please.
@sisterstill asked: ❝ i’m not letting you sleep tonight. ❞
John had known tension before. The kind that wound itself around his spine before a mission, or hung heavy in the air before a fight. But nothing compared to this—her. Yelena. All sharp smiles and unspoken threats, but something else too. Something that crackled in the silence between words and lingered in every glance that lasted too long. Now, she stood in his doorway, framed by the dim hallway light, her expression unreadable, her voice quiet but cutting through the air like a knife.
He blinked. For a second, he almost laughed—almost. But then he saw her eyes. Not teasing. Not joking. Serious in that infuriatingly confident way of hers. John exhaled through his nose and leaned back against the edge of his bed, arms crossed, heart pounding faster than he wanted to admit. “Yelena,” he said slowly, like her name was a warning and a prayer all at once, “I haven’t slept in weeks. Do I look like I want to sleep?” He wants to forgets. He wants companionship and warmth and that feeling of waking up by someone at his side again.
He stood up from his bed, shirtless and with only his pants on as he reached the door, allowing a moment for her to step into the room, the unspoken desire of what they both wanted lingering in the air before he closes the door. Click. And they are alone. The room felt smaller instantly. Closer. He didn’t move, didn’t speak. Just watched her as she approached—weeks of tension compressed into each inch of space she crossed. This wasn’t about games anymore. It hadn’t been for a while. And now, finally, neither of them was pretending otherwise.
His voice dropped, rough. “You sure about this?”
✱[SMS:] @sisterstill sent:
❱ [ transcript below:]
Yelena sits on the edge of the bathtub. The tile is cold beneath her feet, the air too still, too quiet. In her hand, the test is already drying-- a double pink line, stark and final. Negative. That's what the box said... Of course it is. She stares at it anyway, like maybe staring will change it. Like maybe if she just breathes differently -- slower, deeper -- it’ll blur and shift and become something else. But it doesn’t. It stays. Cold. Clear. Empty. There’s no reason she should’ve taken it. She knows that. She’s not stupid. The Red Room made sure of that. They carved the possibility of motherhood out of her before she ever knew to mourn it. She was sixteen when they told her... like it was a footnote. Like it didn’t matter. Just one more thing taken in the name of control. And yet. Her body ached in new, unfamiliar ways. Her chest felt strange. Her heart kept fluttering for no reason at all. A cruel combination of hope and biology and muscle memory from another life -- a life she was never allowed to want. Reddened eyes meet Steve as he walks in on the moment. She sniffles and hands the test over. "I'm so stupid, I don't know what I was thinking..." @sisterstill
Steve froze in the doorway, one boot just over the threshold of the bathroom, where light pooled soft and gold over tile and silence. He didn’t speak right away. Didn’t move. Just took in the shape of her, sitting there on the edge of the tub like the world had cracked in her lap and she didn’t know how to put the pieces back together.
Yelena's fingers trembled as she held the test out, her voice thick. "I'm so stupid, I don't know what I was thinking..." Steve stepped forward then, slow and careful, like approaching a wounded animal—except this one was Yelena, and she was always the strongest person in the room. Except now.
He took the stick gently from her fingers, glanced down. Two pink lines. His brow furrowed, and his voice came low, certain. “Yelena... This isn’t negative. Two lines means positive.” He crouched in front of her, holding her gaze. “I know what it says. I’ve seen it before. Trust me—this is positive.”
Steve reached for her hand, warm and solid against her chill. “You’re not stupid,” he said quietly. “You hoped. That’s not stupid. That’s human.” Steve was already pulling her close, arms wrapping around her with a gentleness that surprised her—because it didn’t break. Didn’t falter. Just held.
@sisterstill hadn't been feeling her best , ┈┈ that much Bucky could tell for certain. Something he wasn't willing to just sit with. ( not when there had to be something he could do about it. ) And there was plenty he could do about it. She just wanted to feel important , ┈┈ feel seen and treasured which luckily he could do for the rest of his days. Not only could he , but he wanted to.
They had finished dinner , ┈┈ which he had spent the time making while she was out with Ava. Even made sure to get to some of the cleaning in the house that she had been wanting to get to , ( but morning sickness had been more brutal than usual that week. ) If there was one thing Bucky was good at , ┈┈ it was taking care of people without being asked. He had done it with Steve for so long , that it had become a feeling as familiar as breathing. After all the war and violence … it was nice to be something caring and tender for once.
Bucky gently swayed them to the soft jazz music playing in the background. ( he always danced better to jazz music. ) The soft piano and saxophone filled the room glowing with soft warm light , ┈┈ his arms holding her frame close to him while being careful of her growing bump on her belly. Head rested upon the top of her head for a moment. Letting the moment be soaked up as a soft smile curled his lips , ┈┈ before he used them to place a kiss on the top of her golden head of hair.
“ I woulda had my work cut out for me fightin the rest of the guys off uh you back then. ” His voice was soft , ┈┈ not wanting to ruin the moment they had created for themselves with thoughts of times long gone. “ Would've been happy t'do it though. Even now … ”
@sisterstill asked: “Don’t ever, ever, ever, ever ask me to fucking do anything like that ever again!”
Yelena’s voice hit him with the kind of fury that could’ve peeled the paint off the walls. He just stood there, arms folded across his chest and expression unreadable behind tired eyes. But underneath all the bravado, there was a flicker of something else—guilt, maybe. Or regret. He had asked her to cross a line, one she clearly didn’t want to cross again. One he hadn’t realized she couldn’t.
“Yeah,” Tony said quietly, not rising to meet her anger. “That’s fair.” His voice was softer than usual, the cocky cadence stripped away. “I didn’t think it’d hit you like that. I thought—hell, maybe I didn’t think at all.” He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. He was trying to fix everything again, trying to play god and strategist and team leader all at once, and she—Yelena—had just been another piece on the board he moved without considering the weight of her past.
He looked at her then, really looked at her. The rage in her eyes. The trembling edge of control she was barely holding onto. “You don’t owe me anything,” Tony said finally. “And I won’t ask again. Not like that. Not ever.” ( Natasha would had hate him too but she would understand. There is a sting there, Yelena is not Natasha, and its not fair he dragged her into this ). He glanced down, then back up, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I forget sometimes that not everyone came into this game to be a martyr. You didn’t sign up for that. And that’s on me.”
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