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Ashes to Ashes

I have made a page that will have all the chapters for this fanfiction. I hope this makes it a little easier!

Chapter 1: Coffee and Consequences

Chapter 2: Two to Tango

Chapter 3: Cameron

Chapter 4: Get Used to Her

Chapter 5: One Night Stand

Chapter 6: Twins?

Chapter 7: Pepper's Wedding

Chapter 8: Reception

Chapter 9: Bananas

Chapter 10: Wednesdays

Chapter 11: Just Another Mission

Chapter 12: James

Chapter 13: Burnt Orange

Chapter 14: Baby Mama

Chapter 15: Hawaii

Chapter 16: Art of Chaos

#bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #james bucky buchanan barnes #steve rogers #winter soldier #ash series #bucky #bucky x reader #marvel #bucky x you #bucky x oc #bucky barnes x oc #james bucky barnes #tony stark #pepper potts

Heeeeeyyy!

Sorry to have disappeared — life has really been lifing lately. Mercury is definitely not my friend 🤣

But! During my little break, I realized I don’t love the way the storyline is set up right now. I’m going to be switching it so we start in past tense and then move into present tense. For now, I’ll be archiving the present tense chapters (don’t worry, they’ll still be available to read).

We’ve already seen a lot of James and Ash’s relationship… but there’s so much more to it.

So stay tuned, and thank you for being patient with me! 💜

#bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #james bucky buchanan barnes #steve rogers #ash series #winter soldier #marvel #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x you

Chapter 16: The Art of Chaos

Let the chaos of Ash take over! We finally get to see her loosen up!

Previous chapters

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Them motherfuckers benched me. They all took a vote behind my back. Daddy Stark’s idea. The vote was unanimous.

“I’m sorry, you want to bench me to do what? Knit? Grow a garden? Become a domesticated house cat?”

“See, I knew this is how you were going to act,” Daddy Stark said.

“Ash, sweetie, you need a break. Just relax for a few weeks,” Pepper said, putting her cup down.

“I don’t need or want a break,” I replied.

“Your file says you haven’t had a break from a mission in over five years, Ash. This is needed,” Cap said.

“Says the human popsicle. How about you go on a break?” I squinted at him.

“Have fun, build a sandcastle. Drink tequila. I don’t care. You’re benched,” Daddy Stark said.

“This is bullshit!” I stood up and stormed off.

They wanted to bore Ash? Fine. I was going to show them what bored Ash really was like.

So today, I decided I was going to power wash the compound.

I also spent $4,000 on Daddy Stark’s card.

Red light therapy, fake eyelashes, tanning creams, gardening supplies, trellis—whatever I could think of to occupy my time.

They wanted to give me a break… protect me. But bored Ash was a loose cannon. I needed missions, I needed consistency.

And that loose cannon started bright and early by setting off the fire alarms… by putting a metal fork in the microwave.

“Sweetheart, my feral child…” Daddy Stark began. “Why did you spend $300 on porn?” He asked, walking into the kitchen while everyone sat around drinking coffee.

Cap choked on his coffee, Romanoff shook her head and smiled.

“I was bored,” I replied, making a homemade latte.

“And what is Project E Body?” He asked, scrolling on his phone.

“Red light therapy,” I replied, sitting next to James.

“What the hell is that for and why was it $650? Was it at least on sale?” He said, looking up.

“No, it wasn’t, and it’s for my wrinkles.”

“Mhm, okay… Well, at least you made a donation to the SPCA. Thank you, I didn’t know you were such a philanthropist,” he continued.

“Someone has to think of the animals.”

James started chuckling, shaking his head.

Pepper walked in perfectly dressed as usual. “Ash, why did you buy 60 pounds of topsoil?”

“For my tomatoes.” I leaned back.

“And the 500 feet of fairy lights?”

“For ambiance and romance. This place is dull as hell.”

“Please, keep it to a minimum, darling. I don’t want to take my card back,” Daddy Stark said.

“What a shame. I was going to buy a new wardrobe. I’m thinking black monochromatic. What do you think?”

“We should go shopping then!” Romanoff said. “Matching tattoos?”

“See! Shopping addiction and tattoos. I was thinking about expanding to the other arm. Relaxation,” I said dryly.

“I can go and be damage control?” Pepper asked.

Bucky’s POV

Days had passed and I could see Ash was starting to unravel.

One day, she walked into dinner bright orange. The next day, she was learning how to put individual eyelashes on… in the gym.

She started a garden and was talking to the plants. Started playing music to them because of some research study proving plants like classical music. At night, we all just heard Mozart blasting from Tony's speakers.

Another day, she made six loaves of bread—all from different flours. She tried to make sourdough and somehow it exploded all over the ceiling.

She cleaned and moved the furniture around in everyone’s room calling it Feng Shui. Went on and on about how we weren’t balanced or living in harmony.

She tricked me into watching Real Housewives of Salt Lake City. Told me it would help me understand the world. Her favorite episode was watching Jen Shah get arrested. She made me watch it six times before moving on.

And from that day on… somehow I became the lost puppy that she dragged everywhere.

She threatened Tony into pulling a 2007 Britney. And he had to hide all the razors in the compound. We all started growing beards.

It had been four days. Four days of Ash going insane. And then Tony finally let her reorganize and catalogue all of his archives. She screamed yay and skipped away.

I was terrified for us all.

Day five of Ash being benched… She installed a stripper pole in the gym training room… by herself.

I found her in the gym at 3 pm, watching YouTube videos, trying to learn to pole dance, muttering about her core not being strong enough.

“James, do you understand how to do this? I keep swinging and then I don’t really go anywhere. How do they get in the air?” she asked, watching me walk in.

I never should have checked on her.

Forty-five minutes later, and she’s still trying to convince me that anyone would go to see me stripping.

“Come on, you’re hot! Look at those abs! You totally would get paid the big bucks!”

“Really, I’m fine. I don’t need the money.” I tried every excuse of why stripping was not my calling.

“Why not? Who doesn’t need money? With a great body like yours, you’d be rolling in the cash! I could be your manager!” She said, starting to pull up a Word document.

I took the laptop away.

“Doll… listen, thank you but no.”

“Would you feel better if I was there? Like a groupie?”

My heart was pounding hard in my ears, my neck felt like it was on fire.

“No, doll. I don’t need you to watch me do a striptease,” I said, my voice thinner than I wanted.

“I know what we should do!” she yelled, startling me.

“Let’s go clubbing!”

“Are you crazy? You would hate that!” I replied.

“No, I feel like it’ll be fun!” She stood up.

“This is a terrible idea.”

“You’re still coming old man, we’re doing immersion therapy for you.”

And that’s how I found myself in a club on a Wednesday at 1 in the morning. Watching Ash take shots out of someone’s belly button. Dancing like she was on fire, wearing something Natasha had forced her into—crop top and a leather skirt. I’d never seen so much skin on Ash since… well… never. She was mesmerizing. I felt like I couldn’t take my eyes off of her, but like it was wrong to watch her.

She walked over to me and smiled.

“Come on James, don’t be a poor sport. Come dance!” She said, grabbing my hand and trying to pull.

“Nope. Not happening.” I said flatly. She pouted. I was on my eighth beer and I wished I could feel a buzz.

“But I need you out there with me, taking on the dance floor!” She looked at me with big blue eyes.

“I’ll stand here and watch your drink.”

“Ooh, you got me another one! You’re so nice!” She threw her arms around my neck like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Her scent hit me instantly—warm and cozy, like vanilla bourbon and soft spice, like cinnamon sugar clinging to the air in winter. It wrapped around me, sunk into my skin. I could’ve drowned in it.

She didn’t let go. Her cheek brushed mine, and her body pressed against me just enough to make my thoughts scatter.

Ash never touched people. She had sharp edges and exit strategies. But tonight she was soft. Loose. Clingy.

She kept grabbing my hand like she forgot she wasn’t supposed to. Fingers sliding up under my shirt onto my stomach, bare palm against my skin. Like she needed to feel me there. Like I was real.

And it was killing me.

I stood still, heart pounding like I was back in a warzone—not from fear, but from how badly I wanted to pull her closer.

I didn’t know what any of this meant. I didn’t know if she’d remember.

But I knew one thing: I never wanted her to stop touching me.

Three hours later

We had made it back to the compound, finally. She got into an argument with a trash can and threw her shoe. I gave up on walking and carried her back to the car and into her room.

“It’s like a rollercoaster with you!” She said smiling, face very close to mine.

“Why are you so chaotic?” I asked.

“Jamie boy, it’s fun!” She said as I set her on her feet. “Time to get ready for bed!” She said, swaying again.

I sighed heavily and looked at the ceiling.

“Are you good? You’re able to do that without me?”

“Who put this door here!” She ricocheted off the door frame and bumped into the other side.

“I’ll take that as a no.” I shook my head and walked her to the toilet.

“My makeup wipes please.” She pointed. “I’ll let you do this.”

I knelt in front of her and started wiping her face with the wipe.

“Why are you good at this?” She asked, looked at my face and smiled.

She lifted her hand and placed it on my cheek, thumb dragging slowly over my bottom lip. I froze.

“You’re beautiful, James,” she whispered.

Now normally, that wouldn’t mean much. Ash called everyone beautiful—told Sam he had the jawline of a Greek god just last week, told Natasha that her ass looked like a perfect peach in some leggings, and flirted with the coffee guy so shamelessly I had to tip him extra out of guilt.

But this wasn’t that.

This wasn’t teasing or bravado or chaos.

She looked up at me, eyes heavy and honest, and said quietly, “Your eyes are my favorite color.”

Just like that.

And for the first time, I didn’t know how to joke it off. I didn’t know how to breathe.

“Ash—” I fumbled, the word half-formed, nowhere to go.

She dropped her hand, laughed like she hadn’t just sucker-punched me in the chest, and mumbled, “I’m gonna be so hungover tomorrow.”

“Yes doll, you’re gonna be hungover and need a burger for breakfast,” I chuckled and shook my head.

“Let’s get you to bed.” I said helping her off the toilet and walking her to her bed. She’d be pissed tomorrow that I made her sleep in the clubbing outfit. But that’s tomorrow’s issue.

The next morning, I’m in the gym with Steve and Sam.

“You brought her where? Why!?” Sam asked, trying to warm up.

“She wouldn’t stop talking about me doing a damn striptease!”

“Language!” Steve said.

“Steve, I think I’m dealing with more than I can handle. She was trying to take pictures of my feet for OnlyFans. I don’t even know what OnlyFans are!”

“I honestly think you’re loving this, Buck,” Sam said, standing and smiling.

“I don’t know about loving this. Ever since I watched that trash TV, she’s been dragging me around everywhere.” I was lying right through my teeth.

“But I haven’t seen you smile like this ever, Buck!” Steve said.

“We never should have benched her,” I mumbled before stepping onto the mat.

After training with Steve and Sam, I checked on Ash.

She was sitting in bed scrolling through her phone.

“She lives!” I said, smiling as I walked in.

“Yeah, totally alive, no thanks to you!”

“Excuse me?” I sat next to her on the bed, taken aback.

“Why did you think it was a good idea to have me go clubbing? Are you insane?”

“Am I insane? It was your idea!” I yelled.

“No, I think you just wanted to see me dancing in a leather skirt with my ass hanging out.” She threw her phone across the bed and laid back against the pillows..

I was speechless.

“You touched my lips and couldn’t keep your hands off me!”

“Hallucinations now, James? I think maybe you need food. Do you want DQ?” She said.

“First of all, it’s 11 am. Second, you called me beautiful and said my eyes are your favorite color!”

She got out of the bed, still in her clothes from last night.

“Jesus, James. Yes, you’re fucking beautiful, your eyes are the prettiest things I ever did see. But the real question is why the fuck you would let me sleep in this? It’s gross, and now you need to wash my sheets.” She walked over to her dresser and pulled out leggings and a black t-shirt.

Turning away from me, she started pulling off the crop top.

“Jesus Ash! Could you at least warn me!?” I turned away from her. “Do you even remember anything from last night?”

She came and sat next to me, pulling her hair into a ponytail.

“Mmmm no.” Did she really? Not remember anything?

“You don’t remember drinking shots out of a stranger’s belly button?!”

“How unhygienic. You really failed me.” She shook her head.

“Ash! This is not on me!” I yelled, exasperated.

“Oh my god, James. I’m gonna eat your face off if you don’t feed me. Don’t make me a cannibal!”

“What am I supposed to do about that!?”

“Take me to get a large ice cream, immediately!”

“How did I get dragged into this? Why me?!” I started looking at the ceiling.

She froze.

“Dragged into what? Ice cream?”

“The chaos. The Ash world! I don’t know if this is the best thing I’ve ever done or the worst thing. You argued with a trash can, threw your shoe, and called me Jamie boy!”

“That’s a cute nickname! And fine, go back to being boring!” She grabbed her keys and started walking towards the door.

“If you want ice cream, you better get your ass moving. I’ll drive!”

“No! You won’t! The last time you drove, you went 90 in a 40 and you don’t even have a license. You had to offer a hand job to the cop to get out of the ticket!” I stood up and walked over to her, wrestling the keys out of her hand. They weren’t even her keys! They were Tony’s!

“Oh yeah! His name was Matt. He was cute! It would have been a small price!”

“We’re sharing a large one this time!” I pointed at her.

“Don’t you dare! I get my own!” She said, pulling the door open. “Also, there’s a lot of complaints from someone who follows me around like a lost duckling.”

“You held me at knife point last time!” I turned slowly and looked at her.

“If you don’t want to go, then don’t. I’ll take Daddy Stark’s jet. Unless what I’m really hearing is that you love that I wreak havoc on your life and you don’t know what you would do without me.”

I shook my head and looked away.

“Whatever you want to think, doll.” I held the door open to the outside.

It’s definitely the latter. I really would be bored out of my mind without her.

#bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #james bucky buchanan barnes #steve rogers #winter soldier #ash series #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x you #marvel #bucky x oc #bucky barnes x oc #pepper potts #tony stark

Chapter 15: Hawaii

This chapter is full of chaos gremlin Ash and fluff/flirting. FYI it is long! But enjoy!

Previous Chapters

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Ash – POV

Daddy Stark had requested a secret meeting. All Avengers were to attend. Top secret. Lockdown. No questions. You better be there.

I was surprised—nothing was usually this hush-hush around here. I sat in the conference room waiting for Daddy Stark to show up, fashionably late as always.

He walked in, not even bothering to apologize.

I rolled my eyes.

“We’re going to do something BIG. Bigger than we’ve ever done,” he announced, pulling up pictures on the screen.

“We’re going on vacation!” he said with a proud smile.

“That was the secret?” Rhodes asked flatly.

“No, the secret is this is going to be a top-secret mission... for me to propose to Pepper,” he continued, flipping the screen to a full-blown mood board: pictures of the beach, flowers, women in dresses, and a sunset.

I stood up so fast everyone’s heads turned.

“Nope. Not happening,” I said, pushing in my chair.

“This isn’t up for debate. Everyone has to be there,” Tony said, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“F*ck off. I’m not going on some fake-ass family vacay.” I walked out, letting the door close behind me.

Bucky – POV

“Cap! You gotta talk to her. She doesn’t listen to me,” Tony groaned.

“Why do we all need to be there?” Steve asked, sighing heavily.

“Sorry, who doesn’t want an all-expenses-paid vacation to Hawaii?” Tony responded sarcastically. “Listen, Ash has to be there. Pepper would be devastated. They're friends. They text and plan my demise all the time.”

“Ash has friends?” Rhodes asked, glancing around.

“Yeah, they bond over pranking me. They dyed my teeth blue last week,” Tony muttered, still scrolling through the mood board like this was normal.

“Is that why your socks were glued on?” Bruce asked.

“Yep. So, Cap—figure it out. Bribe her. Knock her over the head and stuff her in a bag... get creative.”

Steve took a deep breath and looked at me.

“Don’t look at me! I couldn’t even get her to come to my birthday,” I said, hands up in surrender.

“Fine. I’ll talk to her,” Steve muttered, standing up. I followed him.

He knocked on her door. No answer.

“This is ridiculous. He wants me to force a grown woman to go on vacation. This isn’t what I signed up for, Buck,” he grumbled, arms crossed.

“What did you sign up for? Saving the world? You already did that,” I smirked, patting his shoulder.

He sighed and knocked again.

“Ash, it’s Steve and Bucky. Can we come in?”

“Door’s open!” we heard from the other side.

“Give me patience…” Steve mumbled under his breath. Normally, he didn’t mind being the peacemaker, but lately Tony had been relentless. Every mission, every issue—he pushed Steve to deal with Ash. Somehow, Steve had become the designated mediator between them.

All because of an argument about me. And how Tony thought he was better than everyone else, despite the human trafficking allegations and, you know, building a murderbot that destroyed a city. That went over real smooth.

She sat on one end of the couch, a book open on her lap, legs tucked beneath her. She looked up when we entered. Steve sat on the coffee table in front of her.

I’d only been in here once—when I found her unconscious. I hadn’t noticed how... empty it was. Sterile. Nothing on the walls, no clutter, no personality. Like she could vanish at any moment, and no one would know she’d ever existed.

“Ash, isn’t this getting old?” Steve asked.

“Isn’t what getting old?” she replied, calmly closing her book and tilting her head.

“This back and forth with Tony. Hating him. Making me play middleman.”

“So, what I’m hearing is... you’re tired of being the messenger,” she replied flatly.

He stared at her for a long moment.

“Ash, you can make your own decisions.”

“Except when Tony sends you to do his dirty work?” she asked.

He didn’t answer. Because she was right.

“Noted. What are you here for?” she asked, turning her gaze to me.

“He wants you in Hawaii. Says you and Pepper are close. Something about his demise... and superglued socks,” I said, trying to save Steve from the fire.

She cracked the faintest smile. “That was Pepper’s idea.”

“Will you please come to Hawaii?” Steve asked quietly after a long pause. He sounded tired. Her eyes narrowed.

“Only if you tell Daddy Stark to handle his own assets,” she said. “And I’m wearing black.”

“Ash—” he started.

“Nope. Those are the rules. Otherwise, I’m not going.” She opened her book again. “You can close the door on your way out.”

He stood slowly and nodded, heading out.

“She’s right, Steve. You don’t need to do his job for him,” I said, standing in the hall beside him.

“Yeah? You tell him that,” he muttered, scratching his jaw.

“I will,” I offered, trying to lighten the mood. He chuckled.

“It’s fine. I’ll talk to Tony. She’ll go.”

And she did. She was the first on the plane, waiting for us.

But that was when everything started to shift. After that, Tony stopped going through Steve. He started calling Ash directly. She answered. No more back and forth. He gave her the mission—she complied.

Steve was out of the equation.

Ash POV

The plane ride took forever—or at least it felt like it. I asked to be sedated, but Banner said absolutely not. Complete bullshit.

Instead, Pepper texted me all the things she wanted to do on the trip. She wanted to hike a volcano, ride in a helicopter, go shopping. Little did she know, she’d be getting engaged—and completely unavailable.

I didn’t understand how she tolerated Daddy Stark. But she loved him. She gave him grace and accepted him. From what she told me, he had failed her—multiple times—but he always came back better.

I didn’t understand how that counted as love. Sure, second chances and all that crap... But how many chances can someone give?

My real opinion?

Love is a lie. Unconditional love doesn’t exist.

We arrived that evening, with just enough time to relax and eat dinner. Our rooms were already assigned. Mine faced the ocean, the balcony hanging over the pool. The next evening would be the proposal.

Tony had gone all out. He’d rented the entire resort by the water. Flowers everywhere—in arches, hanging from the ceiling, lining the aisle. A long table draped in linen, candles and lanterns scattered throughout. A huge arch of white roses planted in the sand, framed perfectly for sunset.

It was beautiful.And Pepper would be shocked.

True to his word, Steve had spoken to Daddy Stark. I was wearing black.

The dress code was beach formal. I literally had to Google what that meant.

Romanoff insisted on going shopping with me, saying I “had no idea the knockout body I had.” I went along with it, not totally sure what she meant. She picked out a silky black halter dress. I insisted on black sandals. That was the deal.

We were all supposed to be on our best behavior. I even agreed to no pranks on the trip—per Daddy Stark’s request. I promised to behave.

I stood among mounds of ridiculous flowers in my black dress. The humidity had made my hair frizzy and heavy, so I’d twisted it up for once. I hadn’t shown this much skin around the Avengers since the day I was traded. I felt exposed. Naked. And I wasn’t even the one getting engaged—so why was my stomach doing flips?

I heard footsteps behind me and turned to see Cap and James walking up. Cap gave a small nod and a half smile, then walked past.

James stopped next to me. “You clean up nice,” he said, voice low, eyes roaming—slowly.

“Not too shabby yourself,” I said dryly.

He smiled and gestured for me to lead the way, placing his hand on the small of my back.

That was new.

“What do you think about all of this?” he asked.

“Oh, you know... all the pomp and circumstance. All for love.”

“You don’t want them to get engaged?” he asked, glancing over.

“I don’t really care what they do,” I replied, eyes on the ocean.

He studied me.

“You don’t believe in all this?”

“Define this—the thousands of dollars in flowers? The proposal? Or...” I sighed. “...in love?” I finished for him.

He nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“No, I don’t,” I said a little too fast. His eyes widened.

“Why?”

“Because it’s always the same garbage. ‘I love you, you love me.’ Promises no one keeps. People are who they are—they don’t change. You just coexist with someone for the rest of your life. Woohoo.”

“Wow. Who hurt you?” he asked, half-shocked, half-amused.

“Oh, you know. Years of trauma. People are assholes—and then you die.” I said it matter-of-factly.

“So you’ve never... been with someone?”

“Oh, I’ve had plenty of sex, if that’s what you’re asking. But relationships and I? It’s a hard no,” I said, grabbing two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter.

He nodded slowly. “Isn’t that pretty lonely?”

“I’ve been alone a long time. I’m good.” I handed him one of the flutes and walked away.

I watched Daddy Stark get down on one knee, pulling out a ring. Pepper was happy—crying.

I downed the champagne, clapped, and smiled for the pictures.

The week kind of dragged—but not in a bad way.

James, still my shadow, seemed to enjoy Hawaii. He’d never been before. He liked the ocean. Said it helped him breathe again.

I, on the other hand, couldn’t just sit. I’d been on missions back-to-back for years. I couldn’t just sunbathe and waste time.

So I planned snorkeling, shark caging, deep diving—anything to learn more, anything to move. I wanted to enjoy the vacation as much as possible, even if it was forced.

James watched from the shore when I snorkeled. Stayed on the boat when I went shark caging. But I finally convinced him to go deep diving.

“What if you see a turtle, James?”

“Turtles?” he asked, peering over the boat’s edge. “What if there’s sharks?”

“Is the Winter Soldier—one of the most gifted assassins of our time—afraid of sharks?” I teased, grinning.

A blush crept over his cheeks. He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. I’d started noticing these things—the way he got tongue-tied with me, the quiet looks that said too much.

“No, I’m not afraid of sharks!” he snapped back, redder now.

“Okay then. Zip me up. I’m going with or without you. Your choice, James.” I turned, pulling my hair to the side, exposing my back.

A moment later, he was behind me, carefully pulling the zipper up without touching my skin. He took a deep breath.

“Just think—turtles. You love turtles. Remember the ones on the beach? What if you see one swimming? You could follow it,” I coaxed, smiling.

He looked me over, rolling his eyes. “I do love turtles.”

He took a few deep breaths, then nodded.

“Okay. Fine. I’ll go.” He ran a hand through his hair. “But if I die, I’m coming back to haunt you.”

“Wouldn’t want it any other way, darling. Suit up!”

He turned and started talking to the dive instructor, peeling off his shirt. I took a moment to appreciate the view. He worked harder than anyone—training, running, clean eating. It showed. Sculpted like a god.

My stomach flipped. My head buzzed.

Must be the sun.

He was probably the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. His hair long and pulled back in a bun, beard shaped perfectly against his chin. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy his company—his jokes, his quiet smiles. But I’d sworn off dating. Especially dating coworkers. That got messy fast.

I did one-night stands. That was it.

He caught me staring.

“You ready?” he asked.

“Ready when you are,” I said, sliding my goggles on. We flipped off the boat into the ocean.

We didn’t just find one turtle. We found several.

He was like a kid in a candy store—following them, pointing, practically glowing. I couldn’t help smiling at how innocent he looked at that moment. How free we both felt.

That was my favorite part of the entire trip. Seeing him that happy.

That unburdened by swimming with turtles.

Hours later, James and I sat at some dingy bar he had found. Of course he had to pick the one that looked like it had barely survived a hurricane to celebrate our last night in Hawaii. It felt like a small victory.

The ocean air and the sun seemed to help us relax. Everything felt lighter between us—we were joking easily, smiling more. His cheeks were flushed red.

Maybe it was the beer.

“All I'm saying is, you're totally a turtle. They're old, and you're ancient. They've got shells, and you’ve got whatever that broody emotional exterior thing is going on. When everyone knows you're just a cinnamon roll.” I laughed at his facial expression. “And you do that staring thing. Turtles stare.”

“I don't have a staring thing,” he said, shaking his head, trying to hold back a smile.

“Yes, you do! You know—the whole deadly assassin, staring into your soul thing.” I took a sip of the terrible tequila.

“What’s a cinnamon roll?”

“You know—hard exterior super soldier, but a softy!”

“That is a total lie.” He shook his head and bumped my shoulder.

“You wish. You know I'm right.” I smiled again. “Also, this place is horrible. Where did you find it? The tequila tastes like armpit.” He choked on his beer as I said that.

“I don’t want to know why you know what an armpit tastes like.”

I laughed and let the joke hang in the air. Hawaii felt... peaceful. And that was terrifying. I wasn’t peaceful.

“You're glowing,” he said, leaning toward me.

“I think it’s actually because I’m burnt to a crisp.”

“You look happier here,” he murmured, brushing my hair over my shoulder, his touch lingering.

“Hawaii… what can I say.” I froze, not moving as his fingers trailed down my arm.

I watched his face, but his eyes were following his hand.

“I’m gonna go take one last walk on the beach,” I whispered. He looked up and nodded.

Out of the bar, my heart was pounding. He was fucking gorgeous. We had almost nothing in common, but we just gelled. I couldn’t put my finger on it. But it wasn’t hard to spend time with him. We’d started watching movies on Wednesdays and having our favorite snacks.

I walked toward the ocean and hugged myself.

I breathed in deeply, inhaling the salty ocean air until my head cleared, and then I walked, reminding myself that I didn’t date. I didn’t do relationships. I had one-night stands—get in, get out. No sleepovers. No love.

How many times did I have to tell myself this weekend? Why was this so hard? It was never this hard.

I walked until my legs were aching, finally getting back to the hotel after the sun had set.

Hawaii had the most beautiful sunsets I had ever seen. I had traveled all over the world as an asset, and it was still the best thing I’d ever witnessed. Forcing James to go up a volcano for a sunset? Worth every single complaint he had. I didn’t care if he’d basically turned into an ice cube up there. Seeing him in that sunlight was perfection.

I walked to my room, shoes in hand, lost in thought about James and the sunsets.

He was walking toward me—toward my room.

“Was just making sure you got in okay,” he said with a smile.

“Oh yeah! Walked for a while—you missed a great sunset.” I turned to open the door, swinging it open and walking through.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

Bad idea.

“Sure,” I said, putting my key card down. He closed the door behind us, leaving us in complete darkness, the balcony door open. The only sound was the waves.

“Ash…” he whispered, walking slowly toward me.

He stopped in front of me, not touching.

“Yeah?” I whispered back.

“Am I crazy for thinking… that there’s something here?” he said finally, his voice low. My stomach flipped, my heart squeezing.

“Must be... the ocean air,” I said, voice thinner than I wanted.

“Maybe it’s the ocean air.” He lifted his left hand and pushed my hair over my shoulder, like he had earlier. He took a step closer, looking down at me, our noses inches apart.

He tilted my chin up with two fingers.

“Tell me to stop…,” he whispered, “and I will.”

I knew then I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted to know what it felt like. I held onto that thought for a moment, our lips barely touching.

Then I placed a hand on his chest and stepped back.

“We… can’t, James.” Trying to control my voice. I dropped my hand to my side.

“Okay,” he said and nodded. “I didn’t mean to…”

“No, James. You didn’t. It’s just that… I know the dream you’ve built up in your mind. With the wife, the kids, the dog and house. The retirement from all this...” I said, hugging myself. I couldn’t read his expression in the darkness.

“And that’s not me. I can’t give you that,” I finished, swallowing hard. “I can be a friend, a sparring partner… hell, if I didn’t know you, I’d say a one-night stand. But you? You’re not someone I’d want to forget in the morning.”

A long silence filled the space between us.

“I get it, Ash. I respect that you’re looking out for us.”

How... diplomatic.

I bit the inside of my cheek. “You should go.”

“Can’t get rid of me that easily, doll,” he said, his voice a little lighter—I didn’t miss the ache underneath it. He sat on the bed, patting the space next to him.

“Come on, tell the old cinnamon roll your favorite part of the trip.” Slowly, I walked over to the bed and sat beside him, going into detail about all my favorite moments… all of them including him. But I left that teeny tiny detail out.

The next morning, I woke to the sun in my eyes. The blinds and the sliding glass door were still open from last night. I’d fallen asleep sometime while talking with James. I didn’t even know if he had slept here.

I shot up at the memory, finding his side empty and cold. I checked my phone and saw a text from him:

James – 7:04 AM Didn’t want to wake you Went to breakfast Meet me if you want -JBB

He always signed his texts. I never understood why.

But there was no way I could meet him for breakfast.

I paced the room and decided a shower might help reset me. But once I stood naked in the bathroom, I realized I needed to talk to the only other person who sort of knew what was going on: Pepper.

Well, she didn’t actually know anything. We just pranked Daddy Stark. But who the hell else was I supposed to go to?

I threw my hair into a messy bun, barely got the robe around me, and sprinted to the elevator, shoeless. I hit the top floor like it owed me money and bolted to Pepper’s door.

“PEPPER!!!” I pounded on the door urgently.

“Pepper! Please!!! Pepper!! Open up! I need to talk to you!” I knocked again. I waited a few moments, not hearing anything.

Just as I raised my hand to knock again, the door swung open.

“Ash, what’s wrong?” Calm, cool, and collected. Hair perfectly styled, standing blue silk robe. How she always seemed so calm around Daddy Stark baffled me. You could tell her she was on fire and she’d remain peaceful.

“I think I’m having a heart attack,” I said, barging into the room and pacing, holding my robe closed. I hadn’t even tied it—just clutched it closed and ran.

“Ash, just take a deep breath. Start from the beginning.” She sat majestically on the sofa, bringing her coffee cup to her mouth.

“First of all… do you wake up looking this great every day? How does it feel to be God’s favorite?” I pointed at her.

“Ash…” she said with a gentle warning.

“We almost kissed,” I said, sitting down across from her, finally tying my robe.

“We?”

“Not you and me!!! I mean James and I!” I ran my hands over my face. “We went to some scummy bar he found, and I had shitty tequila that tasted like armpit. And we were joking and flirting, and then I went on a walk. And he checked on me!” I paused. “And then we almost kissed. Like… mouths close enough to kiss but not kiss.”

“What happened?” she asked, taking a bite from her Danish.

“You could give me something here. Jump up and down, scream, something. I mean, come on.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Let me try again.” She set the Danish down. “Oh my God, Ash! Why didn’t you kiss James?” she said with mock enthusiasm.

“That was lacking, but acceptable,” I said sarcastically. “I stopped it.”

“If you don’t have sex with cyber boy, I will.”

Stark. Walked out of the bathroom in a robe, hair wet, towel around his neck. I looked shocked.

“Tony!” Pepper said, slightly appalled.

“Ew. Gross. I didn’t need to know you were fanboying over James.” I said. Pepper looked horrified.

“What? I’m just saying, the sexual tension is IMAX. Like, Dolby Atmos level. It’s distracting. Why did you stop the kiss?” he asked.

“Are we doing this? Like right now?” I asked as he sat down next to Pepper, hand on her knee.

“Oh yeah, we’re doing this,” he nodded.

“Ooookay. I mean... look at me. Look at him. He wants a life—a real one. He had a life before the Winter Soldier era. I never had one.”

“So?” Pepper said.

“Sooooo,” I sighed heavily, rolling my eyes. “A kiss would lead into something else. That something else would be him dreaming of some future—a wife and kids. That’s not me. I can’t be a wife! I’m not Pepper!” I waved my hands around. “I mean... look at me!”

“Listen, kid. Sometimes life brings you things you aren’t looking for. Sometimes you’re just on the ride and stumble onto something,” Stark said, looking at Pepper.

“I don’t do relationships,” I said finally.

“You have one with me,” Pepper said. “And what about Romanoff? You two go shopping all the time. And if we’re being generous, even Tony.”

“That’s just to spend Daddy Stark’s money.”

“It’s an honor, really. Are we ever going to graduate from that name?” Stark asked.

“Never,” I replied instantly.

“Kid, you and him—there’s something there. I saw it the first time you two sparred. The chemistry felt like a porno. I had to delete the video so HR wouldn’t call me.” He grabbed his green smoothie. “Are you hungry?”

“No?” I said. “You’re oddly calm about this.”

“Because you deserve to be happy, Ash,” Pepper said. “You’re not broken. You’re scared, and it’s okay. Just... don’t run from the good things because someone told you you don’t deserve them.”

“Wow. Didn’t think this was how this convo was going to go. Tag-teamed by the Starks to go have crazy wild sex with the Winter Soldier.”

“Please, go for it. I think it’d be a great time, really. I don’t think he’d be vanilla. Might even be into choking. Just keep it down or use the soundproof room. I don’t need to hear everything,” Stark said. I looked at him, horrified.

“You both have lost your minds with all this lovey-dovey crap.”

“Just talk to him, Ash. He clearly won’t say no,” Pepper added.

“Okay, well, this was real enlightening. Definitely will NOT tell him how I feel. But thank you,” I said, getting up to leave.

“Jet leaves in five hours, kid. Think about it!” Stark called as I walked out and closed the door behind me.

Yup. Definitely not doing that. No sir.

Not today.

Not ever.

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Update!

LOL Mondays for updates for Ashes to Ashes is not going to be happening anymore. I will be posting on Tuesdays!

Life and adulting - you know- gets in the way!

Also, FYI Ash and James are FINALLY going to have a moment.

(Feels like it's taken forever!)

#bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #james bucky buchanan barnes #steve rogers #winter soldier #ash series #bucky #marvel #bucky barnes x oc

Chapter 14: Baby Mama

Previous Chapters

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Ash’s POV

16 weeks

I was sitting in bed, trying to find something to watch on TV. I had just gotten comfortable, just enough pillows in the right place, nothing pushing on the belly. It was perfect.

And then I heard the knock, I looked at the clock and saw the time.

The only person it could be was James Barnes.

I contemplate not answering, but then I hear the knock again.

I sigh heavily and walk to the front door and open it. There is James, hair and clothes soaking wet from the rain outside. His eyes are puffy and bloodshot.

He looked…broken.

“What do you want, Barnes?” I say, holding the door.

“I didn't know where else to go” His voice cracked. “I know you hate me, I know I've ruined everything. Steve is gone and Sam is on a mission. And I just…” he looks away, clearing his throat. “I'm trying to be fine, but I'm not fine. I just need my best friend. Not Ash who hates me or is my baby mama. Just, my best friend…Ash.” He looks back at me, eyes glistening.

I stand for a moment, looking him over. I was still mad at him. I could slam the door in his face, tell him to go to hell. But I know what it felt like to have no one. I look away, and sigh heavily.

“Fine, but just for tonight.” I say, standing back and holding the door open for him. “But tomorrow, you're getting baby mama Ash back. Pregnancy rage and all.” He walks through the doorway and I close it behind him.

“And please never refer to me as your baby mama again.” I mutter as I walk to the kitchen to pop some popcorn.

“What am I supposed to call you?” He asks, taking his wet jacket off and hanging it on the back of the chair, takes off his shoes.

“I don't know, supreme overlord of the fetuses? Has a ring to it. The words baby mama shouldn't come out of a 110 year old man's mouth. It's creepy.” I say as I pull out the chocolate chips.

“What are you doing?” He asks.

“I'm being best friend Ash and making your stupid chocolate covered theater popcorn. Or would you prefer hot sauce?”

“No, chocolate is perfectly fine.” He says, surrendering.

I walk into the bedroom and grab his clothes and hand them to him.

He goes to the bathroom and changes.

Could I really sit here and be best friend Ash? Yeah, I could. I missed it more than anything. I missed him and us and my best friend. I had needed him so badly it hurt. Sure, I could have slammed the door in his face. But I think I needed this too. Just pretend like all these issues were not here, the arguments had not happened…we were just us.

I needed him today too. Even if this was about him. I wasn't going to tell him or even fully admit it to myself.

I pour the chocolate chips in the popcorn and shake it while it's still hot. Once it's shaken well, I dump it in a bowl and grab some water, a few other snacks, and a bottle of tums.

He comes out and stands there awkwardly, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Grab the tray, let's get going. I'm sure there's something vintage for us to watch” I say as I pass him walking into my bedroom.

“Shouldn't we sit out here?” He says looking away, holding the tray, standing at the doorway.

“Do you want bffl Ash? Or preggo rage Ash?” I say fluffing my pillows, and sitting down. I get up two more times, trying to get comfortable again.

“I'm not waiting all night, soldier. Get your ass in here.” He looks at me tentatively.

“Pretty sure I broke my couch sleeping on it for so long. My back will give out if I have to sit on it another day.”

He finally walks across the room and sets the tray on the bed, and sits down carefully. I take the chocolate covered popcorn and a sour patch kid and popping both in my mouth.

I put "I Love Lucy" on, I know it's his “reality TV show”.

“Ok, so you got your Lucy, your popcorn concoction, your comfy clothes. What do you need to tell your unbiased best friend, not pregnant with your babies, Ash?” I ask looking over at him.

He looks at me for a long moment and shakes his head.

“I don't know how you do it.”

“Do what?” I take a bite of the popcorn.

“This. You remember everything, you let me be me. I fucked everything up. Elizabeth was a fucking psyco. Steve was a douche. I lost my two best friends. I was so mad, Ash. At everyone. But it wasn't anyone else's fault but my own. And you just made me chocolate covered popcorn. I don't know how to do any of this.” He rambles on looking away, whispering the last sentence.

“Yeah, we're all fuck ups and then we….” I say back, opening the tums, popping one into my mouth and chewing, “die?”

That could have landed a bit better.

He laughs.

“She was awful, Ash. Not because she wasn't you or…or she was mean to you guys. She was just awful.”

“No, she was a cunt. At least tell me the sex was the best you ever had!” I say looking over him again.

“No, we never even did that! She said she was waiting.”

“Waiting for what? The cows to come home?” I take a swig of water.

“No, for marriage.” I choke on my water, coughing violently and spitting it out of my mouth. He starts laughing.

“Well, there's nothing wrong with that, but god dang, she needs to borrow Vinny the vibrator then. Either that or she was the devil reincarnated.” I shake my head. “I don't care what people do with their bodies. Sleep with everyone, wait for marriage. Just don't be a cunt.” I say, wiping my chin off with the blanket.

He laughs again “She tried to make me vegan.” My eyes go wide.

“What a shame… we could have seen a withered Winter Soldier. Would your arm have stayed on if your shoulder got smaller? How does that work?”

“No idea, but I tried it.”

“For how long!” I was shocked.

“Well she thinks I gave it the good old college try, but after our dates, I was binging on burgers and sushi.” He laughed again.

I laugh imagining him double fisting McDonalds Big Mac and a sushi roll.

“So, what did you learn?” I asked.

“That I rushed into something just because…I didn't want to be alone.” He says, finally taking some popcorn.

“Yeah and you have terrible choices for women. I told Steve we need an interview process for the women you're bringing around from now on.”

“Why didn't you say something sooner?” He asks, leaning back on the pillows.

I look at him for a long moment. I can't tell him…but I had already told him it wasn't Steve.

“I wanted you to be happy…even if it was…” looking away, I was trying to find the right words. “With someone else.” I finally finished the sentence, it was burning in my throat.

He doesn't respond for a while. I don't think he's going to say anything at all.

“I fucked everything Ash.” He says, breaking the silence. “And I don't think it'll ever be what it was.”

“Nope, probably won't. We're meant to evolve.” I say matter of fact, I was an example of that. I watched him for a long moment.

He looks up at me for a moment, eyes glistening. “I miss this,” he whispered.

I nod my head. “Me too”.

I let a few long moments of silence pass.

“I needed my best friend too.” I say, looking away, trying to keep my voice steady. “I have Pepper and Sam… I guess… Daddy Stark. But, when I was alone… I was alone.”

I wanted to tell him the times I picked up the phone, ready to text him. I would write out full texts, essays. And then…just delete it.

I reach for more popcorn.

“I'm so sorry Ash. I hate myself everyday for what I said and walking out. And not turning back.” He said, his voice cracking at the end.

I nod, trying to blink away tears.

He used to reach for my hand in these moments.

He used to do this with everyone—when someone was vulnerable or off balance, he’d pull them in for a hug and kiss the top of their head. Sam, Peter, Steve… It didn't matter who. At first, I thought it was kind of weird. I mean, who just kisses people on the top of their head? But over time, I got used to it. It became his thing. His way of saying, I’m here.

This time, he didn’t do it. And I really could have used that right about now.

“I'm here, Ash,” he says. I look at him. I don't have the words to say. So I sigh and grab some popcorn.

“I can't believe you were going to go vegan for her. What a shame.” I shake my head. “No wonder you were so cranky all the time, you were starving.”

He laughs, and grabs the yellow sour patch kids, the only one he eats.

It felt like old times, like we were just James and Ash again. I haven’t forgiven him and I don't know how to. But, maybe it was a start? Maybe we could just be friends again? Maybe we could just coparent civilly?

We laid in bed for a while, just chatting and watching I Love Lucy. Finally, he fell asleep, and I realized the last time he was in my bed was that night. I watched him breathe deeply and then move to the other side of the bed.

I sleep with my head at the foot of the bed often these days, but tonight…I needed that space. I hadn't anticipated him to fall asleep here. But I let him tonight, just for tonight.

------------------------------------------------

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Chapter 13: Burnt Orange

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Ash POV

13 Weeks

I hadn’t slept in my bed in 13 weeks. And my body was starting to feel it in every way. My back hurt more, my pelvis felt like it was going to snap, my neck hurt, and I think I popped my elbow out of place.

So my bed was calling me.

But it felt more like haunting me. Which seemed ridiculous.

13 weeks ago, I had ripped the bandaid off. Thrown caution to the wind. Let myself go and let James in. And he’d tossed it all in my face.

I had played the night and morning after over in my mind probably over a thousand times. I felt crazy. Like I was rewatching the situation over and over again, thinking I could have done something differently. Anything. I just stood there while he was panicking. I didn’t even know what to say. I was so… shocked. Like my brain wasn’t comprehending what was actually happening.

My hand sat on the handle, frozen.

“This is how it always is, Ash! This is us. Fucking circling each other. And now? All of sudden you finally want something? It’s a joke at this point!” He ran his hand through his hair. “This entire fucking thing with you is a joke! I’ve waited years for you!” He paced, breathing hard, voice unraveling.

“I didn’t ask you to wait!” I shouted.

I squinted my eyes and opened them, taking a deep breath. I twisted the handle and pushed the door open. “That wasn’t too hard. No panic attacks yet.” I mumble to myself.

The room is the same, still kind of smells like him. Well, my room always smelled like him. He had slept in my bed, just as friends, more times than I could count. After missions, falling asleep watching a movie, after nightmares. We just were… us. So my room smelled like him. And maybe I had enjoyed that. Probably too much.

The sheets and blankets tangled on the bed, pillows still in position. My water is still on the nightstand. Robe on the edge of the bed. His shirt on the floor.

I leaned over and grabbed the shirt and felt my eyes starting to prickle with tears.

The fabric was familiar. I balled the fabric in my hands and brought it to my nose to smell him.

He had been here recently, helping. But he still wasn’t here.

I sat on the bed as I felt another tear fall. My breath coming quickly. I felt like I couldn’t catch my breath. And then a sob.

I cried so many times because of this. At first I pretended like it didn’t happen. And then slowly over time, I just couldn’t stop the tears any more.

I was so fucking tired of crying over this. Over him.

I hadn’t wanted this. Didn’t want to fall for him. I knew it would break my heart. I had told I didn’t think I could survive losing him.

So I let myself cry again. Just let it go. In ugly sobs into his shirt, broken breaths and shaky hands.

I let myself cry hard, snot and all. Until I felt like I didn’t have any tears left.

I let my breath calm.

And then I stood up, took a deep breath, wiped my face again, and ripped all the sheets, the blanket, and the pillows off the bed. I piled it high in a corner. I grabbed the cup of water on the nightstand, the snacks left on the dresser… anything that was out of place.

Then I grabbed a garbage bag and I stuffed it all into the garbage bag. I was getting rid of this. I wasn’t going to wash it. I wasn’t going to keep anything. Because that would be a reminder. So I dragged it to the dumpster.

I opened the windows and dusted, wiped down all the different surfaces. I saw a picture of James smiling wide, genuine and beautiful. Hair short, nose scrunching with a tiny silver nose ring. I tucked it in his drawer with his clothes. I would…figure those out another day. I didn’t have it in me today.

And then I vacuumed and scrubbed every surface I could, even the floors on my hands and knees. The trim, the walls, the fan. Everything. When I was done, I was tired and sore.

While sitting in my room with the window open, I pulled out my phone and searched for new bedding.

I scrolled for a long time looking for something to replace the bedding. I had always chosen blues, reminding me of James’ eyes. But, now I wanted something different. I wanted something that would…hug me? Was that a thing? Could colors even hug you?

I stopped on a burnt orange waffle knit comforter. And before I could even second guess, I clicked to purchase.

______________________________________________________________

Bucky POV

14 weeks

It had been about a week since I had been to check on Ash. I had been sent on a mission by Tony, away for a few days. I still texted when I could but only ever got the thumbs up emoji.

Today, I stood at her door and knocked, heart thudding harder than it should’ve been. I didn’t know if I was welcome -but it was easier this time for some reason. Maybe because I was pretending it would be okay.

“It’s open!” I heard her yell.

I opened the door and saw her standing in the kitchen, turned slightly towards the door. She was wearing joggers and a cropped tshirt. I hadn’t really…seen it. Her belly. Even with the ultra sound, she was still pretty toned. But with this shirt, I could see the belly carrying our babies. The bump was… small but holy shit. I stopped and stared, I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. My brain was short circuiting.

The bump - small but unmistakeable. Ours. It hit me like a punch to the chest. They’re real. They’re in there. And they’re hers. And they’re mine. Fuck.

I had seen every version of her. I had seen her broken, never crying. She…didn’t cry? Or if she did, I never saw the tears. I saw her unconscious. I even saw her dead once, the worst fucking moment of my entire life - including the 70 years of Hydra. I saw her the happiest she’d probably ever been. I had seen her dressed to the nines and naked, bare just for me.

But God. This was…nothing I could describe.

“Do you want chai? Cause I’m making it fresh. Otherwise, there’s orange juice.” She says, looking up. She looks…brighter today.

“You look…different.” I say, closing the door behind me. “Well… sorry to disappoint. Same old me.” She says looking down as she wipes something on the counter.

“Have you been sleeping better?” I ask. I look around. No more blankets on the couch. No more pillows.

“Yeah.”

I look across the kitchen and hall and her bedroom door is open. Her once light blue bedding was gone and replaced by a burnt orange comforter.

“You changed your bedding?” I say, taking a small step towards the room.

“Yeah, I needed to spruce up the room. It was killing my vibe.” She says awkwardly.

I nodded slowly, walking to the door and stopped, looking around. It was clean and it smelled…different. “What’s that smell?”

“It’s this green tea infuser thing. Trying to find my inner zen.” She says, getting a cup from the cupboard.

I nod and look around. The photo of me is gone. Replaced with a picture of the twins ultrasound. It made sense, that was real. That was now. But it still stung in a place I didn’t have a name. My shirt is gone. Her robe is put away.

“It looks nice! I didn’t know you liked orange.” I say stuffing my hands into my pocket.

“Me either. Called to me while doom scrolling at 3AM.” She says, finally looking up again

“It…fits you…now.” I say.

And it did. I don’t know why, but right now she was burnt orange.

______________________________________________________________

The next time I went to her apartment, I left a small bottle of my cologne on her bedside table. She didn’t need to use it. She didn’t have to use it. But, god, I wanted her to use it.

This apartment wasn’t mine, her bed wasn’t mine. She wasn’t mine. But it had smelled like me. It had been my oasis from all the nightmares and bad missions. The nights my mind wouldn’t stop racing, the anxiety.

Just like the nights when she was at the compound, my bed smelled like her. Sometimes coconut. Sometimes cozy and warm and spicy after wearing her perfume.

I hesitated at her nightstand, cologne bottle in hand.

She’s moving on. I could see it in the orange bedding, the photo of the twins. I didn’t know if I belonged in this space anymore. Maybe I never really did.

But still -

I set it down gently.

Maybe it was a peace offering. Maybe it was stupid. Maybe she would need it. I didn’t know, I don’t even really understand why I did it. I just did and I hoped that one day, she would use it.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

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rosesaints

oh, it's hard to leave you (when i get you everywhere!)

pairing: congressman!bucky barnes x pr manager!reader summary: you tweet one (1) mildly unhinged critique of congressman james buchanan barnes’ pr strategy—something about ghosting the press and weaponizing cheekbones—and three hours later he’s in your dms asking if you want a job. now you manage his social media, his public image, and occasionally his existential spirals. he’s got a metal arm, a rescue cat named alpine, and the digital instincts of a dad trying to facetime from the tv remote. somehow, against all odds, he’s good. earnest. dangerously hot. you're so screwed. word count: 10.6k content warnings: 18+ mdni, fem!reader, soft dom!bucky, sloppy make-out sesh for the win, fingering, oral (f!receiving), face riding, praise kink, unprotected sex, rough sex, size kink, creampie, use of pet names like sweetheart and pretty baby, unprecedented levels of yearning, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unhinged tweets

You don’t mean to go viral.

You really don’t. It’s not a bit or a career move or a desperate plea to the algorithm gods. It’s just that you were in line for coffee at 8:47 a.m., hungover from exactly one and a half spicy margaritas (because you're a real adult now and your liver hates you), and the man in front of you was vaping indoors. You needed to direct your rage somewhere. That somewhere happened to be Twitter.

Well. That and the soft target of Rep. James B. Barnes.

Chapter 12: James

Previous Chapters

TW: mild sparring violence

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When Ash was back at the compound, I tried to make myself known. She’d sit in a room for hours - until someone walked in. Then she was gone.

I felt like it was my personal mission to make her spend time with me—or any of us. Steve could make her do anything. Tony could make her do the exact opposite of what he asked. She did it out of spite. I wanted her to feel like she had a choice. She deserved that.

She lifted heavy in the gym. I made a point to be there sometimes, just watching how she moved - efficient, precise. Definitely not what I expected.

I saw her running on the treadmill, so I joined her. Next time, I spotted her doing weights. We never talked - until one day, I asked her...

"Do you want to spar?"

"Have you lost your mind?” she joked, smirking. “Pretty sure I’m outmatched before we even start.”

"But wouldn't it be interesting to see if you could keep up?" I asked, egging her on.

"Who said I couldn't keep up?" she said, tying her long, wavy hair into a knot.

"So that's a yes?" I asked, a bit shocked.

"Sure. I mean, I’m probably gonna lose. But let me get at least one hit in. Help boost my ego, give me something to talk about." she said casually.

"I've fought Black Widow," I said, stepping into position.

"So have I," she said, circling me like it was nothing. "She's predictable."

Then she lunged—a quick jab, not meant to land. Testing me. I caught her wrist and she twisted, faster than I'd expected. I smiled.

"You've been watching me," she said.

"Just trying to figure you out."

"Gonna have to try harder than that, soldier," she said with a grin.

She lunged again. I blocked. I struck. She twisted, foot sweeping behind my knees, taking me down. I recovered quickly, hand on the mat, pivoting to catch her. Missed. She was already gone.

"Not trying very hard, are you?"

This time I struck first. She ducked, slid behind me, and jabbed a knuckle into my kidney—just hard enough to sting. Not lethal. Not playful either. A warning.

I turned, grabbed her arm, and we both went down.

She landed hard but didn’t flinch. Her elbow came up toward my throat. I caught it, and we froze—breath mingling, forearms locked, legs tangled.

"Are you letting me win?" she asked, eyes narrowing.

I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to.

She rolled us. Got the upper hand. Sat on my chest, one hand pinning my wrist to the mat. She leaned down, hair brushing my cheek.

"What a shame. I thought it was actually going to be hard," she said, voice low.

That did it.

I twisted my arm, locked her wrist, and flipped us with a clean, controlled surge. She was fast—faster than I expected. So I stopped pulling punches.

Her back hit the mat and I saw the flicker of surprise before she smothered it.

"Oh, there he is!" she said with a smile.

"You wanted a challenge," I said, shifting my weight to keep her pinned. "You got it."

She didn’t answer. She moved.

Sharp elbow to my side, brutal twist of her hips. I countered, flipping behind her before she could fully stand, one arm hooking around her middle. She slammed her heel back into my shin, nearly unbalancing me.

We broke apart and faced off again—both breathing harder now. No more games. Just the way she wanted.

She struck first—a jab and a kick that I blocked, barely. I went low, swept her foot. She jumped. We collided mid-air, crashed down, rolled. Her hair whipped across my cheek. She locked her legs around my waist and I nearly lost balance again.

"About damn time." She was laughing—low, breathless, exhilarated. Not mocking. Just... alive.

I pinned her again, both wrists this time. She bridged up hard. I held.

We froze, breathing rough, faces close. Her pulse was a drumbeat under my fingers.

"You done?" I asked, still holding her wrists to the mat, breathing hard above her.

She looked at me with fire in her eyes and a smug twist to her lips.

"Are you done, old man?"

I laughed—and she used it. Twisted her wrist, shifted her hips, and suddenly I was off balance again.

We kept going.

Ten minutes passed. Then fifteen. I could’ve ended it a few times. But I didn’t want to. Seemed like she needed the fight. And maybe I did too.

Sweat slicked the mat. Her black shirt clung to her back. My hair stuck to my forehead. Every move got sharper, meaner, smarter.

She was all instinct and precision—trained to kill, not spar. And I wasn’t holding back anymore. I hadn’t meant to go this far, but every time I thought she might quit, she doubled down.

A punch I barely ducked. A hit that actually made my shoulder throb. A grappling lock she almost landed before I twisted out of it.

She surprised me.

We broke apart again, both of us on opposite ends of the mat, chests rising and falling fast.

"You good?" I asked, quieter this time. Not teasing. Just... checking.

She didn’t answer right away. Just exhaled, wiped sweat from her temple, and smirked. "Truce?"

I nodded once. "Truce."

We met in the middle and both collapsed onto the mat—side by side, flat on our backs, arms flung out.

Silence stretched.

Our breathing slowed.

After a beat, she spoke, voice softer than I’d heard it before. "That was fun. No one's ever made me work that hard."

I turned my head toward her. "That’s your idea of fun? Remind me to never let you pick the activity.”

That got a huff of laughter out of her. Something unguarded. Something real.

We didn’t get up right away. We just laid there, sweat cooling, something unspoken hanging between us.

She stood up first, slow and steady like every joint hurt. "You good?" I asked, watching the slight sway in her stance.

"Yeah. Same time tomorrow?" she said, handing me a bottle of water.

"Tomorrow?" I was shocked, sitting up slowly, muscles screaming, taking the water.

"Unless you're too tired, old man?" she said with a grin.

I laughed and shook my head. "Same time tomorrow."

“Don’t forget to stretch. Wouldn’t want to break a hip.” She said as she walked out, leaving the door to the training room open behind her.

I was sore. Like, deep muscle, everything-aches kind of sore. I had taken a while in the shower, letting the hot water beat over my tired muscles.

I finally made my way to the kitchen. Steve had said protein and fats were the key to recovery. He made me drink these terrible shakes and eat greens that were steamed. They were terrible.

She was there, standing in all black.

"Hey," I murmured, watching her pile things onto a wooden cutting board. Oreos, gummy candy, grapes, cheese, salami, crackers, rice cakes... a random assortment. And a can of Dr. Pepper off to the side.

"What is this?" I asked, picking up a blue gummy, remembering it from Wakanda.

"The sacred Sour Patch Kid. Try it," she smirked, adding cashews.

I popped it in my mouth and immediately regretted it.

"Why is it like that?" I grimaced.

"Because it's a sour... patch... kid," she said with an exaggerated eye roll.

It eventually turned sweet, but I still hated it.

"Never again," I muttered. "Shouldn’t you be eating something with protein?"

"I have cashews and salami and cheese. What more would I need? It’s a lunchable for grown-ups," she grinned, admiring her masterpiece.

"You need more protein than what you eat," I said. Steve would say the same.

"Says the man who stuffs spinach in his mouth like a rabbit and gags looking at broccoli. I’ll eat how I want, thanks. And tell Steve to shove it. Life's short and then you die. I'm not eating plain boiled chicken breasts and steamed spinach."

She picked up her adult lunchable and started walking toward the balcony doors.

Then she paused, turned, and said, “I don’t like your name.”

“My name?” I blinked.

“Bucky. You don’t fit it.” She looked at me, lunchable in one hand and Dr. Pepper in the other.

“Um… I’m sorry?” I wasn’t really sure what to say. Everyone called me Bucky.

“You’re a James,” she said simply. “Can I call you that?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “Yeah, you can.”

She didn’t call people by their first names — that was just a thing with her. Steve was always “Cap,” which I figured was out of respect. Tony was “Daddy Stark” — a phrase that made me die a little every time. Sam was Wilson. Wanda, Maxamoff. Natasha, Romanoff. Always formal. Always distant.

She had never called me Barnes. Never called me anything at all, really.

And now… I was James.

I liked it.

She turned and walked through the door, never looking back.

But she left it open behind her.

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Chapter 11: Just Another Mission

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TW: Mentions of forced drugging, trafficking, and unconsciousness. Bucky finds Ash post-mission in a really rough state. Take care of yourselves <3

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Bucky's POV

I hadn’t seen Steve in a long time. After everything, I’d lived in Wakanda to be deprogrammed. Just me and my goats. Peace, for the first time in decades. No orders. No screaming. No war.

Then came the purple alien. Thanos. The world had gotten weird since the ‘40s.

I got pulled back in. And with it came the Avengers. A group of misfits trying to save the world — loud, chaotic, dysfunctional. There was always another fight. Always a bigger threat.

The day they arrived in Wakanda, Steve and Tony were already arguing - about someone named Ash. She wouldn’t pick up the phone for Tony. Said she was having a rebellious teenage stage. Had to have Steve call and said she’s always running late.

She walked off the jet like she had all the time in the world — slow, steady, like she was strolling through a park instead of stepping into a war zone. Sunglasses on. Eating a bag of blue gummies one by one. Black cargo pants, oversized black t-shirt, combat boots, tattoos on display like a challenge. She looked like she didn’t give a shit about anything. Not life or death. Not that Tony was pissed. Not that half the population could disappear, including her. She was there though.

She and Tony started bickering back and forth… something about we’re all murderers? Made her a suit she felt was “too small and made her look like a blue popsicle”. She seemed…odd to me. Chaotic. Blunt. No form of impulse control, even offered King T’Challa these candies like they were old friends. Shuri tried to keep her like a puppy.

And I couldn’t stop watching her.

Thor killed Thanos, right through the head, shocking us all. But we all left a little broken, damaged. Some of us had never seen war -I had only ever known war.

Ash got hurt badly in the aftermath. And that’s when I first saw Tony panic. She was bleeding out and still mouthing off. Steve actually yelled at them both to shut the hell up — Steve. Who never yelled and definitely never swore.

Ash just grinned and said, “About damn time you grew a pair and joined the dark side.”

Then Shuri wheeled her away.

A few weeks later, I moved into the Avengers Compound. Life would be…different. The compound was set back from the city, making it quiet. But I had a room along with the other Avengers who stayed on site. Steve had chosen an apartment in the city. I was across from Ash’s room.

Steve had spent time going over the members of the team, who they were, what they did, enhancements, hobbies, etc. I knew for a fact that Tony was going to hate me and we were never going to be friends.

Steve explained that Ash and Tony had gotten into a big argument and they hadn’t been talking. He said Ash had sided with him about me coming back and Tony was pissed. He didn’t really go into depth about her, just that she was human, had worked with Hydra at one point and then dismantled the remaining sites in Argentina. I’d never gone to Argentina, but she’d heard of me.

There was something…careful in how he talked about her. Like she was breakable. Or dangerous. Maybe both.

Eventually, I managed to convince Steve into letting me read her files. Three hundred and twenty-five pages of mission reports, aliases, kills, behavioral issues, branding, tattoos, and handlers that she had had previously. Each handler was different - one had her for 2 years, teaching her to play piano before she was traded again.

I didn’t really understand what she was involved in. She had a probation period with other agencies, when no one else on the team did. She had months left of probation. Sometimes she went out on our missions, sometimes she wasn't available. She was constantly working.

She’d return exhausted, wounded, and quiet. Going to Bruce to get patched up, then to her room where she would stay. Most of the time, she would come out by the next afternoon and start her routine over again, like it had never happened.

She ate alone, trained alone, and kept her walls up. She didn't speak unless spoken to. She didn't have emotions or if she did, she locked them away. She rarely sparred with anyone and when she did, it was quick and efficient.

She was a puzzle to me. One that I wanted to solve. She was human, not even a super soldier and yet she kicked ass. I had seen her on the field and was impressed. Steve relied on her heavily for her input, not just on missions. He sought her out her opinions frequently. Tony always called her for a mission first, if available. He even used her when building his suits. She moved like a machine - precise, programmed, untouchable.

I sat on the balcony enjoying the warmth, the sounds of the birds, and the blue skies. Besides Wakanda, it had been years since I had had the chance to sit and enjoy. No wars. No fighting. Just silence.

Most of the missions weren’t given to me at this point since Tony hated me still and the government wouldn't pardon me. I slept in late if I wanted to, ate what I wanted, sat on the balcony and read. Did whatever I wanted. It was freeing.

I realized it was lunch time and decided to get up to head into the kitchen. And she was sitting there, on a stool. She normally wore her hair down, long and wavy. Today, she had it in a twist. As I approached, I saw the discoloration on the side of her cheek.

I walked around to the fridge, and grabbed a few things to make a sandwich, turning to her. She was drinking coffee out of a bowl. Her left eye was covered in a black and purple bruise, lip split, neck bruised.

“What the hell happened to you?” I asked, unwrapping the bread.

“You should see the other guy.” She sat the bowl down. When she wasn't covered in bruises, which was never, she was beautiful. The kind of beautiful that snuck up on you. Raw. Unpolished. Real. And she probably didn’t even know it.

“What did you do to the other guy?” I tried to joke.

“Slit his jugular.” She picked up the bowl of coffee, and took a swig. I wasn’t sure how to respond, she said it so casually, like she was talking about the weather.

“Why are you drinking coffee out of a bowl?” I asked, looking to change the subject.

“Because Banner wouldn't give me an IV.”

“Of coffee?” I’d never heard of this.

“Yes.”

“Is that a thing?” I asked, putting ham on my bread.

“Apparently not. How disappointing.” She shook her head. I finished making my sandwich.

“Are you hungry?” I asked.

“No.” She got up, walked around me and put her bowl in the sink. She walked away before I could say anything else. I got a whiff of coconut as she walked past.

Days blurred together. And the weeks passed, and I realized how little of her I had seen. Or anyone for that matter. Steve's apartment in the city was close but had enough space between us. I went there a few times per week, but the city was too much. It was too loud, and I felt like I couldn't breathe when I went into the city. I missed Wakanda, the peacefulness of the land, the slow life of the people, and my goats.

Sometimes I have a hard time sleeping at night, nightmares keeping me up. I had been sleeping on the floor, tossing and turning, staring at the ceiling trying to do anything to fall asleep.

I heard footsteps, looking at my clock and saw it was 1:45 am. This is much later than normal. I heard her grunt, and then the shower started. She normally took very long showers after these missions.

I turned on the TV, trying to find something. Finally, I landed on a show called I Love Lucy. Between this show and the Golden Girls, it kept me sane.

After a few episodes, I noticed the water was still running - over an hour.

I stood up, crossed my room quickly and went to her door. Normally, I could hear her heartbeat or breathing. Now, I couldn’t really hear anything.

I knocked softly, “Ash?”

I tried a few more times and then tried the handle, the door was open. I stepped inside quietly, glancing around. The bathroom door was slightly ajar, steam curling into the hall.

“Ash? Are you ok?” I walked towards the bathroom. What the hell was I getting myself into? What if she's naked?

I heard the water hitting the tub. I opened the door and peeked in. Ash was lying in the tub, fully clothed with the water beating down on her, eyes closed.

“Ash?” I said a little louder, panic rising. I turned the water off and knelt beside her, shaking her shoulder. Her head lolled to the side - breathing, but limp.

“Ash!” I pulled her forward; her head rolled back. I can hear her heartbeat, softly.

Shit.

My first instinct was to grab her and help her - but I froze.

My metal arm. Even after Wakanda, even after everything Shuri did with deprogramming me… some part of me still doesn’t believe it. That part of me didn’t believe that I wouldn’t turn again. Not around anyone, especially around her now.

She looked so small in the tub, clothes clinging to her, pale and bruised. I couldn’t leave her there.

So I swallowed the fear -

Not of her. Of me.

Of the arm that never felt like mine, no matter how much Shuri worked on it. Of the weight of my past, the things I had done, the people I had killed. I swallowed the fear that I would hurt her, break her, just trying to help her.

I slipped my right arm beneath her back and slowly eased my metal one under her knees - cautious, like she might break. I didn’t trust myself.

“Jarvis! Call Bruce” I yelled, desperately.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes!”.

I picked her up gently, she’s light, far too light, but it’s not her weight that rattles me. It’s my arm.

I rushed out of her room, with her pressed against my chest. I jogged towards Bruce's lab. He's already waiting.

“Bruce, something is wrong” I said as the doors slid open.”She came back late and was in the shower for a while and then when I checked on her, she was unresponsive.” I laid her on the table and Bruce took over, starting to insert an IV and doing whatever he does. He looked more worried about her now than when anyone else came back from missions.

Hours later, the sun was starting to rise. I’d stayed up by her bed, watching her. She slept through the night; her vitals were stable. I put the Golden Girls on to have some background noise.

Bruce walked in and started looking over everything again. She started to stir with him standing next to her. She rubbed her face and groaned.

“Ash, what happened?” He asked, sitting beside her, holding a clipboard.

“Just another mission.” She replied quietly, her voice low and drowsy from the meds or sleep. She looked so small in this lab, next to Bruce. Pale and bags under her eyes…she looked like she was wasting away.

“Why do you have four different drugs in your system?” Bruce asked gently.

“That's what they do. They give uppers and downers and uppers and send you on your way.” She said, waving it off. She turned towards the window, noticing me for the first time sitting next to her.

“Ash, you have trazodone, cocaine, molly, and adderall in your system.” He replied, concern growing in his voice. The words rang out like gunshots. I wanted to find whoever did this to her and make them pay.

“Sounds about right.” She nodded.

It wasn’t just the drugs that scared me. It was how casually she accepted it—like this was normal. Like she’d stopped expecting anything better.

“Sounds about right?” I blinked, stunned. This could have killed her.

She looked at me.

“This is killing you.” Bruce said slowly. “And I need to tell Tony.” He shook his head.

“No, I'm fine…really. Not every agency is like this.Just the shitty ones.”

“No! Ash, none of this is fine” He stood up and paced. “You were traded for a car! You have months left of the rental period. This isn’t a job - this is trafficking!” He stormed off.

She didn’t even flinch when he said that. Closed her eyes and took a breath.

I wanted to throttle everyone who’d ever touched her. It had been wrong from the start. She had lost her entire childhood, her entire young adult life. Bullshit, life isn't fair.

She sighed and rubbed her face. I didn’t know what to say. Nothing I could say would fix this.

“Dont,” she said finally.

“Wasn't going to.” I turned up the Golden Girls and turned to face the TV. We spent the rest of the day watching Golden Girls and eating Indian food in silence. She ordered butter chicken, garlic naan, and beef samosas.

After that night, everything changed.

Tony started declining bids or at least sending someone with her. Sometimes missions still went through.

Not all monsters could be kept away.

I watched the hall from then on.

Just in case she came back late again.

Or didn't come back at all.

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Chapter 10: Wednesdays

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Bucky POV

It’s a Wednesday. Not just any Wednesday. The first Wednesday in 13 weeks that I have shown up for our movie night. After that night… I didn’t think she wanted me to come by.

She became a ghost, a memory of all the chaos that she brought into my life. Probably some of the best memories I've had were with her.

But I missed those Wednesday movie nights, and not just because it was her. They had become an anchor for my week. Even if I went home… or stayed over. It didn’t matter. They were my lifelines, especially after Steve had left. She had become my lifeline.

I stood outside her door for way longer than I intended. I had her favorite Indian food under one arm, and her favorite snacks in a bag in my other hand.

I took a deep breath and knocked. I could hear her feet, walking towards the door.

She opened it. She looked a lot better today. Her hair was braided, she was wearing leggings and a sweater. She looked tired, but much better than last week when she had opened the door.

“Barnes.”

That fucking name, I hated it with everything in me.

She never called me Barnes. Not until everything blew up. I had always been James. I had been the only one, besides Pepper, called by their first name.

It was special. It was my thing with her. And when she was drunk she called me Jamie boy, always pretending like she didn't remember.

“I brought your favorites!” I say with a forced smile.

She looks at me for a long moment, and then steps aside.

She let me into her apartment.

She let me in.

I exhale like I’ve been holding my breath since she opened the door.

I set everything up on her coffee table, pulling the food out. She grabbed bottles of water for us and sat down on the opposite side of the couch.

“How are you feeling today?” I ask, tentatively.

“Better, I guess. I showered and didn’t puke.” She says grabbing the naan. “Hey! Small victories. You’re making sure it's not too hot, right?” “Yes, I won't boil the babies.” She rolls her eyes and looks away. She loves sitting in boiling hot showers for hours. Says it burns her soul awake.

“It’s also about your blood pressure, Ash.” I say quietly, not trying to be pushy.

“Yeah, yeah. Cold showers for the win. What are we watching?” She says changing the subject.

“What are you feeling?” “If it’s not funny, I’m not watching it.” She says, putting her legs under her, balancing her dinner on the arm of the couch.

“Alright! We could always watch the episode where Jen Shah gets arrested?” It’s one of her favorites.

“Sure,” she mutters, grabbing the remote. The screen lights up before I can say anything else.

We sat in silence for a while, I’m not really sure what to say. Before, it was so easy. We had talked about everything…way too much at times. But that was Ash, always talking about pigeons being a conspiracy or kinks or how cocaine isn't as good as a good spicy taco. Whatever the hell that means.

And now it feels like there's a hundred elephants in the room. Her and Steve, me and her, the day after…she’s pregnant…the twins. The list just keeps getting longer and longer.

I look over at her, watching her bite into a samosa. The glint of her septum ring catches the light — that nose piercing was her idea, of course. She’d called us the Chaos Twins after making me get my nostril pierced too.

I guess I can try to rip the bandaid off slowly? “Can we talk about something?” I ask, trying to find the right words. I turn towards her but she doesn’t respond. I take that as an invitation to continue.

“The night you and Steve slept together-”

“Why are we talking about that again?” She says defensively, picking at her rice.

“Because we never really talked about it.” I say slowly. She crosses her arms over her chest and sighs heavily.

“Have you even thought about it?” I ask.

“Nope.” She says, looking across the room.

“Ok… have you thought about any of it? Us, at all?” She doesn’t say anything for a long time. She probably hasn’t because the room is still a shrine. She hasn’t even opened the door, unless to get clothes.

“Nope.” She says finally.

“Ash…we don’t have to have this conversation today, maybe we’re not ready. But I think we need to talk about it eventually.”

Sam had said not to put too much pressure, let her think about talking about everything. That’s exactly what I was doing. It was infuriating because I just wanted to talk to my best friend again. Even though there were times when we didn’t talk at all, I knew she knew.

She looks at me then, face blank, eyes distant and says “I’d prefer to never think about it again.”

My stomach twists, and I try to take a deep breath.

“You don’t have to shove everything into that cedar chest anymore. I’m here, Ash. We can talk. You don’t have to do it all alone.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She said with finality.

“OK, we don’t have to talk about it today…” I say, trying to hint that I would like to talk about it in the future but when she felt ready.

“How about we talk about the babies?” I say gently. Sam said not to push, but I wanted to know it all. I had been dying to ask her about everything. I remember when my mom was pregnant with my sister, Rebecca, and being fascinated by it. Then, the boys didn’t ask questions. But these were my babies.

“What about the babies?” She asks, turning her body towards me.

“Anything.” I say with a small smile, looking at her.

“Sure.” She says.

“Besides being sick, how have you been feeling? Like, can you feel them yet?” I ask.

“I don’t know? Sometimes I feel gas.” She responds.

“Is that… normal?” I ask, chuckling softly.

“No idea. But the constipation from the zofran was so bad. I thought I was pooping softballs.” She says dryly.

“Zofran?” I ask.

“Yeah, it was supposed to help with the nausea and it didn’t.” She says.

“Are you still…constipated?” I ask.

“Depends on the day.” She answers. I nod.

“Do you know the genders?”

“No.” She replies, grabbing the sour patch kids.

“Do you want to?” I ask, findling with my shirt sleeve.

“ I don’t know? Do you?”

“I think so. So I can know what to buy and you can name them.” I respond, trying to be hopeful. What if we had a little girl? Would she look like Ash?

She looks at me for a really long moment and tilts her head. I can feel the shift in the conversation.

“You don’t even want to help name them?” She says, suspiciously.

“Well, you’re doing all the work… so I thought you would want to name them.” I say trying to defuse the situation. I had read about pregnancy rage. Women’s hormones were all over the place and their emotions could be unpredictable.

“You said you wanted to be a part of it all.” She says, folding her arms over her chest again. I felt like I was being interrogated.

“I do, Ash.” I say, rubbing my thigh. “I don't know what you want.”

“What I want…” she says, looking away again.

“You're the mom Ash, and I don't want to make you feel like I'm steam rolling this.”

“They're your kids too.” She says quietly.

I don't know what that means. Does she want me to tell her what I want? Does she want me to come up with a list of names? She's not telling me anything. If I say the wrong thing, she'll ghost me again. After sitting in silence for a while, I looked at her.

“I want to know what the genders are and I want to help pick out names.” I finally say, my voice unsteady.

“Then you better start thinking up some names,” she says and turns the volume up without looking at me.

In the 40's being a dad was just kind of the norm. You met someone, you fell in love, and you had kids.

When Hydra took me, I never even thought about having kids. I didn't even want to survive, I was forced to.

Then when Steve found me…I was trying to remember and survive and live. I didn't even think someone would find me…Beautiful. But Ash did. She told me all the time.

I didn't think I had anything good to offer to the world, I was a monster for the things I had done.

How could I be a dad? How could I teach them anything? I couldn't even sleep through most nights.

And here we were, two broken people bringing two babies into the world.

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Chapter 9: Bananas

Late, but not forgotten! I was out of town this weekend and left my laptop behind like a fool. Buckle up — the Ash and Bucky chaos ride continues 🎢

Previous Chapters

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Bucky’s POV

12 weeks

It took me 12 weeks to show up at her apartment.

Well not truly 12 weeks. I had tried to talk to her 9 weeks ago, but her locks were changed. Didn't even try to pick the lock- I got the message.

I had crossed a line.

A few weeks later, I went back, picked the lock, and she was gone. Phone left on the counter, had to charge it. Last person she contacted was Tony. A bat emoji. He said she went ghost and she'll be back when she is ready. She didn't leave a note, a clue, and left behind any device that we could have tracked.

After the Thai restaurant with Ash, Sam warned me. He always knew when we were slipping, basically the Avengers therapist. Said she was shut down and sounded…gone.

I remembered those days when she was slipping. Before we became friends. She would go on missions, some ours and some under the probationary clause. She would come back, unresponsive, completely gone. She would hole herself in her room. I could hear the shower going for a long time. She wouldn’t come out, she wouldn't even answer the door. And as fast as she shut down, she would come out the next morning, to do her normal routine. Depending on the day, she would be weight lifting or running.

I hope she isn't going down that road again.

12 weeks of being a coward. I should have shown up the next day, begging for her to forgive me. I panicked once again and threw every awful thing at her. I didn't believe it. We had been in a constant rotation of push and pull, friends but always something more. Respecting boundaries, pushing boundaries. And she finally…finally let go. And I panicked.

Because I didn't deserve her.

Today, my stomach is in my throat, thinking about knocking on the door to her apartment to see her. I brought her favorite coffee, way too expensive and way too sweet. I also brought her favorite bagel, homemade rosemary salt bagel, double toasted with light cream cheese. I know this isn’t a peace offering.

I knocked on the door three times. I can hear someone breathing in there. Then I hear shuffling.

She opens the door, her hair in a messy bun, wearing a hoodie that's 3 sizes too big, no pants. There are dark circles under her eyes and she looks physically green.

“Are you okay?” I ask. I had never seen Ash like this. I gently push open the door. The smell hits me before I can take in the room. It smells like dirty socks and moldy garbage. She never lived this way. Ever. She was the cleanest person I had ever met in my entire life. She was cleaner than Tony’s maid. She used to clean the spots that Tony’s maid used to forget, like above the fridge or inside the vents. She was nuts about cleanliness.

This was not my Ash. Well, I guess she wasn't mine anymore. I fucking blew that one.

But this wasn't the Ash that I knew. She was kept together, pristine. Her appearance was the one thing she could control for a long time.

She didn’t even have a chance to answer before she was rushing to the bathroom.

“Wha-?” And then I hear her gagging and retching violently.

I panic. I don’t know what to do. I call Sam, closing the door behind me.

“Sam - it’s bad. Like really bad. Her apartment has moldy garbage everywhere, I think the dishes have to be thrown out, and she’s throwing up.” I don’t even wait for him to say hello. I put the coffee and bagel on the counter.

“My sister had pretty bad morning sickness until like 15 weeks Buck, she may just not be out of that yet.”

“I don't know what to do, Sam.” I say desperately.

“What do you want to do?” “I want to help, but I don’t even know where to start.” I reply, scratching my jaw. “Start by making sure she’s ok. Make sure she’s taking her prenatals. Then start cleaning.” He says.

“I should have checked on her sooner, Sam. I didn’t know it was this bad.” I say, looking around the apartment again.

“Yeah, you should have. But you’re there now.”

I hang up and walk to the bathroom, the bedroom door still closed.

“Hey, how are you doing?” I say opening the door a little. She is resting her head on her arm on the toilet, her eyes closed. She groans.

“Maybe you should take a shower Ash?” I say gently. It normally helps her. She groans again.

“Come on, please, tell me what you need, doll.” I ask desperately.

“Bananas,” She whispers weakly before she’s retching in the toilet again. I pull her hair back, feeling helpless.

“I’m running you a shower and going to get bananas.” I say matter of factly. I turn to start the shower.

I help her stand. “Do you think you can get in the shower on your own?”

She nods, looking down.

“Doll, it’s okay. I’ll be right back with the biggest batch of bananas, and help you out. Okay?” I say, tucking her hair behind her ear. She nods again, not meeting my eyes.

30 minutes later, I am back from the store.

I had run into a pregnant woman at the store. Normally, I wouldn’t approach anyone. But she was heavily pregnant, thankfully, and didn’t mind asking her what to get. I must have looked insane. She gave me a list of toast with butter, saltines, gatorade, ginger ale or sprite, tums, zantac, grapes… anything she tried that helped, I bought.

I also bought her 6 bunches of bananas. A bit excessive. I don't even know if they’ll last that long. But what if she needs more than one banana a day?

When I arrive back at her apartment, I can hear the shower still running. I quickly grab the garbage and bring it to the dumpster. When I get back, I collect all the laundry. I don't even know what is clean and what is dirty, but I pile it in the hallway, outside of the little closet that has the stacked washer and dry. I start a load for her.

I walk into her bedroom and freeze.

It’s still the same as the night I had left.

The air feels heavy. I could faintly smell my cologne. My shirt is still on the floor, the blankets rumpled, her robe hangs off the edge of the bed.

For a moment, I just stood there, staring. Blinking.

Shit.

Pj’s, she needs PJ’s.

I cross to her dresser and open the top drawer - and there they are. Clothes that she had kept here for me, in case I needed them. In case I showed up in the middle of the night needing her.

Still neatly folded.

What the fuck was I doing?

I let out a shaky breath and moved to the next drawer. I pull out a pair of Pj’s and find underwear in another.

I knock on the bathroom door as I hear the shower turning off. “I’m going to set the Pj’s over here, ok?” I don't wait for a response.

I take a look around the kitchen and living room, overwhelmed by everything. Has it been this bad the entire time?

She comes out and lays on the couch. I set a banana on the coffee table, not wanting to push her.

Hours later

I have completely finished cleaning her entire apartment. I even scrubbed her fridge. Something sticky like maple syrup was all over the bottom. Sure didn’t smell like maple syrup though. I had cleaned every square inch of the apartment, even above the fridge, like she likes. I left her bedroom alone, but I was folding her laundry, waiting for her to wake so I could vacuum and scrub the floors. Of course, on my hands and knees because God forbid she get a mop. “It’s not the same!” she always says.

I watch her roll over, she grabs the banana and slowly opens it. My heart twists, thinking of her here, all alone, without any bananas to help her.

“Hey” I said lightly, folding her socks and setting them on the table. “Are you feeling any better?” I grab a shirt.

“I guess.” She says, sitting up. She looks around and notices. “You didn’t have to clean.”

“I wanted to. I know it helps you.” I say. A messy home is a messy mind. That’s her motto. Anytime she came over to my room at the compound, she was always reorganizing my bookshelves, cleaning windows, and fluffing pillows. Drove me insane. But I know, she needed it.

“Thanks for the bananas.” She says finishing the last bite. I walk over with some ginger ale and sit on the coffee table, across from her. “Ash… What happened? You looked fine last week.” “It comes and goes. If I’m on top of everything it’s manageable. But then I ran out of bananas and zantac and then I couldn't leave the bathroom.” She says, pulling the blanket over her lap.

“Why didn't you call me?”

“No need to, I would have figured it out.” she says, not meeting my eyes. “No Ash, that’s not how this is going anymore. These are my babies, and as the mother to my babies, I need to make sure that you’re ok. I’m going to be stopping by to check on you and help with whatever.” She finally looks at me and tries to open her mouth to argue. “I know you! Don’t even try it. It’s not up for debate. Now, lay down so I can vacuum and scrub the floors.” I stand up, and hand her the remote.

I don't wait for her to respond. I don’t need her to respond. I know Ash will fight me if I let her.

Surprisingly, she lays back down and grabs her phone and starts scrolling.

At that moment, it hit me. No matter how hard it was, Ash was there. For anyone, but mostly me. She let me explode and break down. And I had abandoned her, when she needed me most.

It wasn't just the 12 weeks that had gone by… it wasn't even the 3 weeks. I didn't show up, not even a text.

I didn’t just leave her alone. I left her believing I wouldn’t come back.

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Chapter 8: Reception

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X OC

TW: emotionally intense scenes, references to name-calling and slut-shaming, and depictions of depressive symptoms and isolation.

Previous Chapters

Summary: Ash attends the reception and hardly keeping it together. She goes to the balcony and James follows.

******************************************************************

Stark and Pepper had seated us all together, at a large table that seated twelve. Cap’s seat was empty, of course. Wilson, James, Romanoff, Belova, Banner, Maximoff, Vision, Peter Parker and his Aunt May, Happy, and I. All seated together to celebrate love.

James kept trying to make eye contact with me. Everyone noticed we weren’t talking. It wasn’t awkward or anything. I stood up quickly.

“Where are you going?” James asked me.

“What are you, my babysitter now?” I said and turned away. I went to the bar and ordered a ginger ale—very different from my usual tequila and cherries. But nothing had been sounding good, and with my emotions at an all-time high, I didn’t think having alcohol was the best choice. I stood there scanning the room. Natasha punched James in the arm, pointed my way, and said something sharply to him. I looked away before they could see me watching.

I waited until the coast was clear before I went back. This time, no one was making eye contact with me. Lovely. Laughingstock of the Avengers now.

Dinner had been dreadful and awkward. I would’ve blamed it on Cap not being there. Cap had been the glue. He kept us all together. But I knew the real reason it was quiet. I pushed my food around my plate, feeling sick from nerves. I checked my phone a hundred times. I tried anything to keep myself distracted and avoid looking at anyone.

I made it through the reception. Once everyone started standing to dance, I quickly made my way to the balcony, where a few other people had congregated. I needed air desperately.

I breathed in the fresh air, quickly trying to fight back tears, when I heard footsteps behind me. I was never a crier, but for some reason, today, everything made me want to cry.

“I never got to tell you how much I liked that dress at that party.” I turned around, and there he was—standing there, tie loose and hair disheveled. He’d been running his hands through his hair all night, a sign of his discomfort.

“Thanks?” I said. What else was I going to say?

“Can we talk?” he asked, hesitant.

“About what? The fact I’m the team whore now? Probably should scope out my next victim. Maybe I’ll go for Bruce. He seems lonely today, right? I know! How about I let you choose my next one-night stand?” I said as he walked up to stand next to me. He touched my arm lightly. I pulled away.

“I was wrong, Ash…” he started.

“Wrong for what? Sleeping with me? You already mentioned that,” I said, keeping my face turned. Don’t let him see you cry.

“No, I was wrong about everything, Ash. I’m sorry.”

“That’s not a real apology,” I responded, looking out into the trees.

“I shouldn’t have flipped out on you. I shouldn’t have blamed you for Steve leaving. He was going to leave. I know… he was there and—”

I turned and looked him in the eyes. His eyes widened slightly.

“I gave you everything.” I whispered, barely able to get the words out. I watched him take that in, looking over his perfect face, with his perfect blue eyes. “And it was never Steve.”

It was only ever him. But I couldn’t say that now. Or ever. The damage was done. He opened his mouth to say something, and I shook my head.

I stepped away from him and walked back into the reception before he could say anything else. There was nothing left to say. He was sorry. Sure, I guessed we were both sorry in many ways. But that didn’t change what happened. His apology wouldn’t change that my heart had been broken. And I wouldn’t be able to forget the look of disgust on his face when he called me a whore. Did he really believe that? I guessed maybe he did. It wouldn’t change that I had lost my best friend either.

I left the wedding and hailed a taxi. The trip took forever. I hated being here. I hated seeing this place. I had changed the locks so James couldn’t just come in anytime he wanted. I hadn’t even changed the sheets on my bed. Disgusting—but it faintly smelled like him, and I felt like if I washed them, it would wash away the memory of that night. That perfect night, where I felt whole beside him. I felt wanted and needed by him. I felt like… I could be the wife with the house and kids one day. I felt like I could actually live the rest of my life happy instead of as a zombie, going from mission to mission. With him, I hadn’t been hollow.

Still in my dress, I laid on the couch, which had become my bed. The apartment was a mess. There were clothes everywhere. I didn’t even know what was clean and what was dirty. Dishes were piled up dangerously high. I had bags of garbage next to the front door that I had been meaning to take out. I was in trouble, I knew. I had never let anything get this bad. But I just wanted to disappear and be forgotten, even for a little while. And truthfully, few had checked on me. Pepper had called several times, of course, to talk about the wedding. Daddy Stark called for missions—and I went. Wilson texted me once. But other than that, nothing. Nothing from James.

If I could go back in time to stop that night, knowing what I know now - I would. I wouldn’t have lit the match that set fire to everything.

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Chapter 7: Pepper's Wedding

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X OC

TW: emotional abandonment, depressive behavior following heartbreak.

Previous chapters

Summary: Ash attends Daddy Stark and Pepper's wedding. She sees James there for the first time since everything blew up.

****************************************************************

7 Weeks Earlier

That morning, I stood in my bedroom trying on different dresses. Felt bloated, nothing felt comfortable, and I was exhausted. I felt like I had been hit by a bus. Honestly, that might’ve hurt less. And the raging headache wouldn’t go away.

I reached to the back of the closet, pulling out the pink dress I had worn for James's birthday. The big 100. James had practically begged me to go to the party, but I hated parties. Pepper had tried talking to me—even Romanoff. It wasn’t until Cap requested my presence. Looking back, I could see why James thought it was always him. But it was just because I actually respected Steve enough to listen to him. Wasn’t going to let Daddy Stark boss me around. There had been plenty of times I gave him the middle finger, but if Cap asked, I was on board.

So when I finally agreed, Romanoff and Maximoff were ecstatic. They insisted on getting my color analysis done. I learned I was a soft autumn—whatever the hell that was. They forced me to go shopping and get a dress other than black. It was a strange experience, going with them, being a part of the “girls.”

They had dragged me all over the mall looking for different dresses that might “knock everyone out of the park.” I made them stop and get me Auntie Anne’s pretzels. I smiled at the memory. I had felt, just for those few hours, that I could actually be part of that family. That group of superheroes saving the world.

They picked out this tight, bright pink dress with a sweetheart neckline. I thought the color was atrocious. But they loved it—even picked out the heels. I complied, seeing how happy they were. Romanoff insisted on purchasing the dress, and Maximoff, the shoes. It was my birthday gift.

I hadn’t celebrated my birthday in… probably ever. Not really. And now I was being forced to go to a birthday party. We just happened to be born on the same day, 100 years apart. But when I walked into the room, I remembered seeing James’s eyes light up—shocked. He had been flustered, unable to even say anything. Besides people interrupting him to say happy birthday, he could barely talk. I felt my best in that dress, just for the hour that I was there. Maybe it was selfish, but I saw James enjoying himself and smiling. I was happy for him. I left after an hour, and ended the night by leaving the original Lord of the Rings trilogy on his nightstand with a card. I knew he would love it.

As I pulled the pink dress out, remembering that night, I knew wearing it would be a bold move. It was a spring wedding, after all. But Pepper had loved the dress and even mentioned it while talking about the wedding plans. I still couldn’t believe she was marrying Daddy Stark.

I dressed quickly, finishing the last touches. I hailed a taxi and walked in, running late. I took a seat in the very back, trying to scan the room, praying Bucky wasn’t even there. And just like that, I saw him turn around, and our eyes met briefly. I broke eye contact and looked at the altar as the music began.

***********************************************************************

BUCKY’S POV

“She’s still not here, Sam,” I whispered.

“You know she’s always running late, man. Calm down,” Sam said, looking around and smiling at someone from afar.

“What if she’s not coming?” I whispered again.

“Well, you can turn around and look for yourself, Buck.” He ducked down to pretend to fix his shoelace. As he bent down, I turned and saw her. She was wearing the pink dress from my birthday. I loved that dress on her. I couldn’t believe she wore it today. Was it for me? Was it a sign?

She made brief eye contact, then looked away, toward the altar.

The music started, and we watched as everyone walked down in a nice, orderly line. The flower girls… and then finally, Pepper. She looked beautiful as always. I really didn’t know how Tony landed her.

We all sat down and listened to them say their heartfelt vows. I had always thought it was cheesy to have people write their own vows. In the ’40s, weddings were simple. But even hearing Tony and Pepper talk about their love pulled at my heart. I looked behind me again, quickly, and saw Ash looking down, wiping under her eyes.

***********************************************************************

ASH’S POV

I watched Pepper walk down the aisle in her beautiful wedding dress. I honestly never thought of her getting married—especially not to Stark. Maybe someone else. But then they had Morgan, and he had changed a little. He became nicer, less sarcastic. He became a great dad.

Their vows had been touching and beautiful. I had only been to a few weddings, but that one definitely topped the list. People talking about their feelings for each other… in that way… had always made me uncomfortable. But I thought I knew that. At least, I had thought I did—with James.

They vowed to be each other’s everything, to be there through it all, to watch each other grow old.

Hearing each word made my heart twist.

At one point, I hadn’t believed in love. Hadn’t thought that was ever going to happen. And then one day, I thought of waking up to James, in a little home of our own. Maybe making coffee. Maybe we’d have a cat. Ordinary.

That’s when I knew… that I wasn’t the same anymore. I was softer. I wanted all of that with James. And it had scared me shitless.

Knowing how James and I had left things, my heart broke all over again. I felt a tear fall, thinking of everything that had happened to us. Another stupid tear. Like it would change anything. I found James again, watching him watch the wedding. I wondered what he was thinking. I looked down at my hands as I tried to compose myself. I wiped my tears away, taking a deep breath.

Things had changed when I was traded to the Avengers. I was treated more like a human… I had found James. My best friend. Everything had happened so quickly—in one fell swoop, I had lost my best friend. Who was I going to turn to now?

As Pepper walked down the aisle again, this time with Stark, I felt eyes on me. I looked up and saw James looking at me. He looked beautiful in his blue suit, bringing out his eyes. I looked away, slapped a smile on my face, and clapped. I knew that this type of life was always out of my reach, but I thought… maybe over time… someone would have wanted me. Maybe even James?

I knew that wasn’t the case though. I knew putting a wall up around me had been the only choice. I had let him in… even for a moment… and I had nothing to show for it.

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Chapter 6: Twins?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X OC

TW: pregnancy, emotional whiplash, past abandonment issues

Please read: Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5,

Summary: Ash is completely shut down after hearing that she's pregnant with twins and James tries to plan to make this work. Ash's walls are up, higher than ever before.

***************************************************************

I find myself standing on the street corner in shock. Twins. How?! Bucky standing beside me, talking. I can't hear anything he's saying. The city is too loud, my breathing is too loud, I feel my heart in my throat. Twins?

“Hello?” He says waving in my face. I blink and make contact. Would they have his eyes? A daily reminder of him?

“Is anything going on in that head of yours?” He asks.

“Yeah, lots of things. First, do I have the strength to push you into the traffic?” I say turning away from him and crossing the street.

“Ash!” He says as a car cuts him off. “Wait!”

I keep walking trying to find some place to be, to sit. My stomach is in knots. Twins. Breathe Ash, just keep breathing.

James grabs my arm and stops me. “Would you stop! Please, listen to me.”

“I'm trying to find somewhere to sit down and eat, Barnes. Let go.” I pull my arm out of his hand and cross the street again.

At this point, I'm walking aimlessly and he's just following. I could have pulled my phone out and found something and was about to. Until I walked by a Thai cuisine place. I open the door and walk in, waiting for my eyes to adjust. I ask for a table for two and am seated quickly.

James slides in and looks at me. “I know we're both in shock,”

“Yeah, you think? Stupid super soldier serum, couldn't make just one baby, had to go and make two!” I know I shouldn't be blaming him.

“What- how is this” he runs his hands through his hair, looking away. “Ok you're right. It's partially my fault. You're right”.

The waitress comes over and asks us what we want. James knows my favorite Thai food and orders it. Stupid James.

“I think the best thing we could do is get a place together.” He says softly. “Please. I can help take care of you and the babies once they're here. You're going to need help. I want to be there for it all, I'm here.” I stare at him.

For one tiny moment, I let myself dream. Waking up to him, holding one of our babies. Him washing a bottle, coffee with him. Watching a stupid funny show.

Nope. Stop.

I push that dream to the farthest part of my mind and lock it away in a cedar chest with all the other shit and dreams I've ever had.

I rub my face hard and run my hands through my hair. “Have you lost your damn mind?”

“No, doll, listen. I know… I know I messed up. I know I'm not perfect. I know I should have done everything differently. I know that. But I'm here.”

He scans my face, his voice cracking on the last word.

“I won't let you do this alone, Ash. Let me fix this, let me fix us. Let me be there for you and the twins. I'll do whatever. I'll sleep on the floor next to the crib, I'll wipe, change their diapers, anything. Please.”

Let him fix… us. What was there really to fix? I shake my head and look at my hand on the table. He places his vibranium hand over mine gently.

“It's not about us anymore. These babies deserve a loving home and parents who put them first. Not one night and hoping it works out or whatever bullshit this is,” I say as I pull my hand away and place in in my lap.

“It wasn't just a night. And we can go on and on about that another time. But we can fix us. I know we can. I can spend every day showing you.”

“How long did it take you to come up with that?” I ask rolling eyes.

“I rehearsed it in the mirror before I left,” he says sarcastically.

“Barnes… this, us? Can not happen. Like you said, it… was a mistake.” I say.

“Please, don't say that. Please.” He says leaning forward on the table. “It wasnt a mistake. And, just think about it. A baby is hard. Two babies is going to be even harder. And I don't want to miss out on them growing. Even inside of you. Them kicking and going to the ultrasounds. I want all of that.”

The food comes and smells amazing. I take a few bites and it doesn't settle in my stomach well. I push my plate away and look into the restaurant.

“I'm not going to think about it. But you can be there for them. You're going to be their dad. And you have that right.” I cant look at him while saying this.

At first he doesn't say anything, just staring at me. Finally he nods, and he looks down.

“Why aren't you eating?”

“Because not everything sits well.” I say, putting my hand over my stomach subconsciously.

“Do you want mine?” he asks

“No.” I say.

“If you don't try mine, I swear I will force feed you. The babies need food.” I sigh heavily and grab his plate and take a small bite, eyeing him up.

“Is that better?” he asks.

“For now. Well see in 2 hrs if it starts coming up or if I have raging heartburn.”

“Have you been really sick?” He asks, worry etching over his face.

“Yeah.”I say not looking at him. He doesn't say anything for a long while. I wish I could read his mind at this moment. I'm freaking but he's just…trying to plan it all out. Pretend like he can fix everything by going to an ultrasound.

This time, the silence isn't so deafening. I have things to do with my hands, like eat or grab my sprite.

“So… that means you were pregnant at Tony and Pepper's wedding,” he finally breaks the silence.

I look at him for a moment and nod, “Apparently so”.

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Chapter 5: One Night Stand

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X OC

TW: pregnancy, emotional whiplash, past abandonment issues

Please read: Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Summary: Ash goes to her first ultrasound, James attends. They are given some news that they were not anticipating.

*************************************************************

11 weeks and 4 days

The week dragged on. Like a loop, all I could think of was James, as usual. He had said ”It meant everything”.

He'd left. He had taken what he wanted and left. And now, here I was pregnant with his baby. Alone.

I sigh and look out the window getting ready to leave. 11 weeks and 4 days, at least that is what my app said. The baby was growing inside me, I don't even know what fruit it is. Why do they compare it to a fruit? Aren't bananas smaller than pineapples?

My nausea had subsided slightly unless I forgot the banana, B6 vitamins, motion sickness bracelets, and plenty of zantac. Without those…I would be sitting by the toilet every day, all day. My stomach was doing flips, thinking of seeing the little baby. And James… would he even come? I sent the time and location. He didn't have to come.

No matter what, its just me and my baby.

I hadn’t started showing yet. I put on a pair of jeans and a regular t-shirt, grabbing a jacket just in case.

The 40 minutes it took to hail a taxi and drive across town felt endless. My mind felt fuzzy, and everything felt blurry.

He's standing outside waiting for me before we pull up. I pay the taxi, he steps up to the taxi, holding the door open. Just like the gentleman he is.

“I could have picked you up”, he says.

“But you didn’t”, I say before walking towards the doors, James following me. We walk in silence to the elevator and there's a heavy silence in the elevator. It felt like the silence was going to suffocate me. I couldn’t even think about what I could say. My heart is racing too quickly, my stomach is flipping. I know that James can hear my heart beat right now. Stupid Super Soldier serum.

I sign in quickly and wait to be seen. James watches me as I walk back. I can barely meet his gaze. Truthfully, I knew he would come to the ultrasound. I knew he would want to be a part of the baby’s life. He would make a great dad… or husband. I don't know how things became so complicated with all of this.

“Ash McClane!” I hear my name and stand quickly. James and I walk side by side as she greets us.

“And this is?” she asks, looking at James. He opens his mouth to answer but I quickly respond. “One night stand gone wrong”. His head snaps towards me, looking at me in horror.

“One hell of a one night stand then, dear. Come along this way please” She says without blinking. I’m sure she's heard that line before. Or she had a really good poker face.

She brings us to a room and asks a few questions, letting me know that the ultrasound tech will be in shortly. She leaves, closing the door behind her.

“Are you serious?” he exclaims. “A one night stand!” He’s standing off to the side rubbing his face.

“What would you have preferred I say, dear? Love of my life? Best friend? Husband? Cause you’re none of those, darling.” What a lie. I think he really is my best friend and the love of my life. And here we are.

“You could have just said my name,” he says.

“Ok, then next time, open the mouth that the good Lord gave you, and talk for yourself. Since you're a 106 year old man and not a toddler.”

“Why are you being so difficult? I’m here, aren't I?” he asks.

“Aww, how nice. Would you like a gold medal for bare minimum?”

He rolls his eyes, his clear sign that he’s cracking, trying not to smile. “I wanted to be here. I wanted to see our baby.” I stare at him, not knowing what to say back. Finally, I look away. Our baby? But not me.

The door opens as the ultrasound tech comes in, introducing herself. She asks me to lay back and pull my shirt up. She squirts the cold jelly on my stomach and brings the device to scan over my stomach. James stands behind me. I hear the whooshing.

“Congratulations Mommy and Daddy! There are two healthy heartbeats! You’re having twins!” She says with a bright smile.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

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Chapter 4: Get Used to Her

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X OC

TW: human trafficking, child exploitation, emotional detachment/trauma, interrogation, power imbalance

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Summary: Ash is introduced to life at the Tower, where Tony learns (too late) what being a "handler" actually means. Sam tries to connect with her, but Ash remains shut down. As the Avengers learn pieces of her past, it becomes clear that this is bigger then they ever expected. They realized that they've inherited something dangerous and deeply broken.

_________________________________________

The team watches as she walks through the garage, hits the elevator button, and leaves, like this was nothing.

“Are you kidding me?” Sam snaps as soon as the doors close behind her. “You just bought a human being, Tony!”

“Yeah, and what was I supposed to do? If I didn't, who else would have?” Tony asks, squeezing the bridge of his nose. “Do you really think I woke up today thinking I'm going to engage in human trafficking?”

Everyone starts talking over each other.

“This is illegal!” Bruce yells, fists clenched.

“Ok! Hold on!” Steve says, waiting for everyone to take a breath. “Maybe…there's something going on, bigger than us.”

“And what if there is Steve? We're already taking down hydra bases all over. We can't stretch ourselves any thinner” Natasha says.

“She's a part of the team now. Get used to her.” Tony says over his shoulder before walking away.

Everyone stood there, shocked with what just happened. They slowly dispersed, leaving the garage.

************************************************

The elevator doors dinged and slid open to Tony’s floor.

I was already standing there, waiting—arms folded, back straight.

Tony startled. “Oh good. You beat me. Very assassin of you.”

“I need to know where I’ll be staying,” I said plainly.

Tony blinked, loosening his tie a little. “Right, yes, of course. Welcome package must’ve gotten lost in the mail. Guest wing’s down the hall, left turn. Find an empty room. Egyptian cotton, if you don’t mind living like royalty.”

“That’s acceptable.”

“Glad something is,” he muttered.

I stepped closer, trying to be professional. “As my handler, you’ll be compensated at the end of each mission. Standard probation is six months. All inquiries must be accepted in those 6 months. You’ll receive full payment upon completion of each mission, wired directly to your account.”

Tony squinted at her. “Wait—I get paid?”

“Yes, as my handler, you will be paid.”

“Oh great. Human trafficking and a paycheck. Living the dream.”

I didn’t react, just kept going.

“You’re responsible for managing my missions, providing housing including wardrobe depending on your personal preferences, medical care, and determining access to funds based on discipline, performance, and incentive needs.”

Tony threw up his hands. “What is this, a contract or a Tamagotchi?”

I tilt my head, confused. “A what?”

“Never mind. Keep going.”

“My full file will be sent to you shortly. Mission history. Kill list. Language proficiencies. Behavioral notes. You’ll have everything you need.”

“Behavioral notes” he echoed.

“Yes.”

He exhaled, deeply. “Okay. Quick question—what part of this makes you think I’m qualified to be anyone’s handler? I forget to feed my dog, and I don’t even have a dog.”

“When you traded me for a car.” I said with a quick nod and a smile.

“Oof. Bar is low, huh?”

I didn’t reply, standing there and waiting. Truthfully, this probably was the best case scenario. A once in a lifetime opportunity.

He rubbed his eyes. “Guest wing. Go nuts. Try not to kill anyone on the way to the mini-fridge.”

I turn to walk away, but he calls after me.

“Hey.”

I glance back.

“…What’s your name?”

I say, simply:

“Ash.”

Tony nodded slowly, lips pursed. “Of course it is.”

I leave him behind.

*************************************************

The sun is finally setting, making shadows across the kitchen. Daddy Stark's kitchen is immaculate. White countertops, stainless steel. The stove alone must have cost $10,000. No beauty though, just sterile.

I'm sitting at the island eating cereal and drinking a giant cup of hot coffee at 7pm. Sam walks in and opens a cupboard to grab a mug. He turns to me and looks at me.

“Can I help you?” I ask, taking a bite of my cereal.

“Can I ask you something?” I sit silently and wait for the actual question. I never understood asking to ask a question. Just ask the damn question. He waits a moment, I blink back at him.

“How did you get involved in all of this?” He finally asks. I push my finished bowl of cereal to the left and fold my fingers in front of me.

“My parents sold me. At 6 years old. To pay their rent.” I say, tilting my head. Waiting for his reply.

He blinks several times at me. No one really knows what to say when I tell them that.

“Anything else?” I ask. He shakes his head no and looks away.

I stand up, put my dishes in the sink, and walk out, towards my room.

************************************************

It’s early. Too early the next morning. Coffee mugs line the sleek glass table. The lights are dimmed low . Tony had requested everyone’s presence as Ash’s files had been faxed over as well as a manual. Clint, Wanda, Vision, and Rhodes has joined the group.

“This manual is literally 500 pages,” Bruce says.

“Did you see her files? There's over 15 aliases. Rebecca Smith, Samantha Nightingale, Tonya Dalenport, Sky Jameson… 11 different languages, hundreds of missions…” Natasha reads the information.

Steve looks over her shoulder. “Does that say Hydra?”

“Yeah… Hydra is the only name that I recognize though.” She says, shaking her head. “Vanta…Halcyon Order, Obsidian… I’ve never heard of any of these. I thought the Nocturne Division was a rumor though.” She flips through a few more pages.

“Jesus Tony. What the hell is this?” Sam says, shaking his head.

The door hisses open.

Ash walks in.

Everyone stares.

She’s wearing one of Bruce’s enormous post-Hulk transformation shirts—faded, stretched, and hanging halfway to her knees. No pants. Just bare legs and bruises. The shirt says, in cracked green letters: “Don’t Make Me Hangry.”

Tony blinks. “What the hell are you wearing?”

Ash stops at the head of the table and tilts her head. “The wardrobe you’ve provided.”

Tony’s eyes go wide. “No, I haven’t!”

“They were in the drawer in my room.” She gestures loosely at the hulking fabric. “Therefore, I assumed they were assigned.”

Bruce squints over his mug. “Hey! That’s where those went. I’ve been looking for those.”

Ash continues, deadpan. “There were four total. All oversized. One says ‘#ScienceDad.’ One is torn. This was the least offensive.”

Nat coughs into her mug. Sam looks away to hide his laugh.

Tony slams his palm down. “You’re telling me, out of all the clothes in the world, you decided to attend this briefing dressed like an angry middle-aged blogger from Wisconsin?”

“I wasn’t given many options,” Ash says calmly. She pulls the massive, tabbed binder toward her. “Section 14, Subsection D, page 113, paragraph two—”

Steve looks over at Rhodes, who shakes his head.

She opens the manual with the solemnity of someone reading sacred scripture.

“‘It is the handler’s responsibility to provide attire suited to the field, daily life, and all appropriate social or operational functions. Said attire must be purchased or approved by the handler, including undergarments, footwear, and accessories.’”

Tony’s mouth opens. Nothing comes out. He gestures vaguely at her legs. “Are you saying I’m on the hook for—”

“Yes,” she says. “Because, and I quote, ‘The asset shall not be penalized for attire deemed inappropriate when the handler has failed to assign, procure, or communicate the necessary wardrobe expectations.’” She closes the manual with a thud.

“You’re really just…freeballing it through Tower protocols right now?” Tony asks in disbelief.

She shrugs. “There was also no underwear.”

Bruce nearly chokes on his coffee. “Okay, uh—those drawers weren’t that deep. Please tell me that was sarcasm.”

Ash raises an eyebrow. “It was not.”

The silence that follows is deafening.

Clint leans toward Steve. “I’m gonna be honest, Cap. I did not have this on my Avengers Bingo card.”

Steve closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Tony. Fix it.”

Tony throws his hands in the air. “Fine! God. FINE. I’ll get her a clothing stipend. Wardrobe. Whatever. F.R.I.D.A.Y. - can you get her a different outfit so she can go shopping?” He pulls his credit card out of his wallet and tosses it across the table. Ash catches it.

Ash nods, satisfied. “Is there a budget?”

“I really don’t care as long as you’re not walking around commando anymore.” Tony says, taking a giant swig of coffee.

She gets up to leave. The shirt billows like a ship’s sail behind her.

“You worked for Hydra?” Steve says.

“Yes.”

“In….Argentina? Why Argentina?” Natasha says, reading the file, then looking up at her.

“For the Fourth Reich.” She says matter of fact.

“Who went to Argentina?” Rhodes asks, confused.

“Hitler.”

“What? No, he died in a bunker.” Steve says, shaking his head and crossing his arms.

“Okay, let's take a minute to ACTUALLY think this through. Knowing what you know about Hydra and S.H.I.E.L.D… you really think that Hitler, one of the craziest people in history, shot himself in a bunker? Then the Russians rolled him up in a rug?” Ash responds, smiling. "Come on now."

Everyone looks at Ash, confused.

“Hitler escaped that night along with several generals and Hydra officials. They made their way to Argentina to start the Fourth Reich. I was used as an asset several times.”

Steve blinks several times, and turns away. “Do you know who the Winter Soldier is?”

“Yeah, everyone does.” She say, shrugging, brushing off his question. Silence meets her response. No one really knowing how to respond.

“Are those Hydra bases still functioning in Argentina?” Natasha finally asks.

“Most likely.”

“You will be leading those missions to take down those bases. Understood?” Tony demands.

Ash looks over at Tony, sitting at the head of the table.

“Of course.” Ash turns and leaves, letting the door slide closed behind her. Leaving the team confused by this information.

"This just got a whole lot bigger, Tony." Natasha says, looking over at Tony.

"You don't say." Tony says.

wintersafehouse

Thank you @valfomelpha and everyone who got me to 5 reblogs!

#5 reblogs #tumblr milestone #thank you

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