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"Your beauty is beyond compare, with flaming locks of auburn hair, with ivory skin and eyes of emerald green."


Bucky pays no mind to the two Alphas and Beta glancing his way, too immersed in the process of attempting to drown his sorrows, and possibly even himself, in the peculiarly but perfectly oversized glass of wine. Bucky's a classy bitch who don't need no man, he can drink wine whenever and wherever he pleases. So what if his and Steve's breakup had been over a month ago, so what if he'd fled his hometown because of that bastard like a damn coward, he has every right to grieve.

Blonde hair, brown eyes, naked skin flushed together. He refuses to cry for that fucking Alpha.

He doesn't realise he's choking, wine rushing out of the glass faster than he can keep up with and almost successfully drowning him, until a hand is grabbing at his wrist, a distinctly feminine form pressing against his side, talking calmly and soothingly into his ear. "Hey now, that's expensive stuff their mystery man, don't spill it all over yourself."

"I wasn't trying to," he grumbles, turning his head towards his unwelcome saviour, "I'm trying to achieve something no one else has before. To drown myself in liquor in a shitty little pub. Like a fucking classy bitch."

The woman, an Alpha undoubtedly, laughs. And fuck, Bucky's actually looking at her now and she's damn hot, with flaming hair that curls elegantly around her slender face, green eyes, and pale skin. "Well in that case," she grins, placing the glass on the table in front of him, "continue on, Soldier."

"Um..." He replies eloquently, earning himself a raised brow and a mischievous grin. "James."

"Natasha," she answers without hesitation, taking his extended hand. He's screwed.


Three months later.


Bucky fidgets with nerves, biting his lip and watching as Natasha makes her way up the drive, beautiful as ever. Three months after they'd met, and he'd finally found the courage to ask her out. God forbid he makes a fool of himself.

He flings the door open a second after Natasha knocks, wincing because if that doesn't scream desperation he doesn't know what does. Natasha just smiles, slipping past him and into the hall. "James," she nods towards him, green eyes flashing with an emotion Bucky can't quite read.

"Natasha," he smiles back, "you look... Um. You look gorgeous," he adds, cheeks flushing red. Before she can answer he's spinning on his heel and rushing into the dining room, waving her in behind him. "Take a seat. Everything's all set up, I just need to grab some cutlery," he says, slowly backing away towards the kitchen as she lowers herself into a seat, taking a wine glass into her elegant hands with a grin. Once he's certain she's comfortable, he turns around and power walks to the kitchen, snatching the cutlery off of the counter before literally running back.

"A knife and a fuck?" Bucky's eyes widened, the cutlery slipping out of his fingers as colour practically assassinates his face. "Fork!" He yelps, standing utterly still and probably looking like an idiot with his face flushed red. Natasha stares at him for a long moment, her lips slowly tugging up into a wicked grin. "I think," she says sweetly, lowering her glass, "I'll take that fuck." He is so screwed.


Three years later.


Natasha's staring at him, frowning slightly as she brushes his hair out of his face. "Are you sure," she asks quietly, uncertain in a way she usually never is. Bucky nods.

"I'm sure."

"Promise me one thing first."

"Okay?" Bucky replies, slow and cautious.

"Once I've bitten you, you'll give me your bite," his girlfriend answers, eyes flashing, burning as if expecting a challenge. Because Omegas don't usually mark their Alphas. God, he loves this woman.

"Okay," he licks his lips and nods, "okay."


Two years later.


"I want a baby."

Natasha glances up from where she's curled up on the couch, book rested on top of Liho, who's curled up in a tight ball on the Alphas lap. She raises her brow, waiting for him to continue.

"I've, uh... I've been looking into this... Thing. Artificial Insemination. It's pricey, but we've got the money, and I know we agreed to wait, but we're in a good place right now, and I'm ready. I... I want this Nat," he whispers the last part, shuffling his feet on their carpeted floor, nibbling his lip and fiddling with his fingers as he waits for her response. The silence stretches out for a long time. When Bucky glances up she's on her feet, padding over to him, expression soft and vulnerable as she takes his face into her hands, brushing away tears he hadn't realised were falling.

"If you want this," she says softly, "if you really want this then you know nothing would make me happier than doing this with you. It's going to be hard, I admit, nine months of pregnancy, gruelling labour and the years after. But I don't want you to feel like you owe me this. I don't want you to be doing this just for my sake-"

"I'm not," he shakes his head, "I'm not."

"Okay," she nods, "okay."


One year later.


Bucky pants harshly, smoothing a hand over his belly with a hummed groan as another contraction rips through him. Natasha squeezes his hand reassuringly, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

"You're doing so great, sweetie," his mother encourages.

"You're nearly there," his father agrees from her side.

"Just one more push, James. One more and you're done," the Doctor says gently, shooting him a reassuring smile. Bucky shakes his head desperately, dread clawing its way up his spine, pulling a pained sob from his throat.

"No," he whines.

"James," Natasha whispers, turning his head and pressing her forehead against his, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck. "James listen to me. You're doing so great, Милый Мой, you're so close. You can do it, you are doing it, just one more push."

Bucky bites down on his lip, tears streaming down his face, and nods.

Their son is born.


Four years later.


Natasha's staring down at the letter clutched tight in her hand, eyes narrowed and burning with rage. She'd cursed a colourful streak of Russian when she'd picked it up.

"Iubi?" Bucky questions carefully, "what is it?"

Natasha whips the letter towards him, rage in her emerald eyes, lips curling up in a protective snarl. "That bastard," she seethes, slamming the letter down on the table. Bucky glances at it. A wedding invitation. His eyes move to the name.

Blonde hair, brown eyes, naked skin flushed together. He refuses to cry for that fucking Alpha.

In any other situation, Natasha's fury would be funny, considering she doesn't even know Steve, only knows him as the cheating ex. It's not. Bucky throws the letter.


One week later.


"Nat," Bucky calls, stepping into the kitchen. Natasha glances up from where she's sat, their daughter cuddled to her chest, and flashes him a grin. "I'm accepting Steve's invite."

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Bucky's motorcycle zips around the corner and out of sight, leaving Steve standing on the street, panting for air and possibly crying. This was never supposed to happen. Bucky was never supposed to know. But now he does. And now he's gone.

"It's gonna be okay, Steve," Sharon says from beside him, pressing herself up against him and squeezing his waist in a hug. "He'll come back."


Three months later.


Bucky doesn't come back. Steve waits, and waits, and waits, and waits. Bucky never comes back.


Three years later.


In a way, Steve supposes, he's lucky. He had fucked up and lost one of the people he cares for the most, but he isn't alone. He has friends, friends that had been furious but friends nonetheless, and Sharon, who stuck by him through the worst of it. Whereas Bucky, he didn't know about Bucky. He could be halfway across the world, alone, more than likely thinking about all the ways he could kill Steve because he was that type of person, or he could be....

Either way, he isn't getting Bucky back. But at least he's not alone. He has Sharon.


Two years later.


The children are giggling and screaming, little arms flailing in joy as they run about, playing a game the adults would never be able to fully understand. Steve's lips quirk as he leans back slightly, trying to get a better look through the large cafe window. He's meant to be finishing up work, a design for a new building Tony is planning to build, but had gotten distracted by the adorable children in the playground across the road. He's always loved kids, had wanted his own one day. Had wanted that with Bucky. But Bucky was gone and Sharon both hates the idea and can't have any anyway, much to her relief.

Steve sighs, looking away from the little family across the road. It doesn't matter. Bucky hadn't been hot on the idea either.


One year later.


To Sharon, it felt like a victory, in a way. Getting Steve, beautiful Steve, to herself, her precious cousin James having finally lost something he practically cherished. It felt like, for the first time in her life, Sharon Carter had won. She'd beaten the oh so great James Barnes.

So when Steve proposed she, of course, said yes.


Four years later.


"Please," Steve begs. "Please. I just want to see him, please."

Winifred Barnes glares at him, hand twitching where it rests on the door as if she's contemplating slamming it in his face.

"Please," Steve asks again, holding the letter out in his hand. The woman contemplates it for a minute, blue eyes narrowing before she snatches it out of his hand.

"Fine," she replies tersely. "But I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this for your mother, may she rest in peace, and for James. It's about time he comes home. But not for you." And, with that, she slams the door, leaving Steve standing on her doorstep with a dopey grin on his face.

Bucky's coming home.

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"I've never done this," Bucky whispers, uncertain, arms wrapped around the Alpha's neck.

"I'll make it good, I promise," Steve whispers back with a grin. Bucky doesn't respond, biting back a groan as Steve's fingers push against his entrance, slowly working him open.

"S good," he slurs. Steve, who chuckles against his neck, has obviously had practice.

"Bout to get a lot better, Doll." The Alpha withdraws his fingers, pulling Bucky into a heated kiss before shifting back to roll the condom on. Bucky whines as Steve lines up.

"Ready?" Steve asks softly, giving him a small, reassuring smile. Bucky nods, groaning as the Alpha wastes no time sliding in. God, he's big. Steve huffs and grabs his hips, forcing him to lay still as he pushes himself in. He pauses for a moment before pulling out, making Bucky whine at the lost, but almost immediately slams right back in, causing the Omega to cry out.

"Ah, fuck! Oh fuck, knot me! Knot me, Alpha, knot me!"

Steve growls, hands tightening around his hips, pushing him into the bed as he sets a harsh rhythm. His knots already fully formed, and it doesn't take long until he's pushing against Bucky, forcing his knot in as it pops. Bucky gasps as the pleasure spreads through him, clinging to his Alpha as he spills his own load on their chests.

"Fuck. Fuck, I love you."


Eleven years later.


Gamora twirls the invitation between her fingers. "You agreed?" She asks incredulously, flicking the invite open again. Nebula leans over from where she's sat beside her, grabbing the invite from her sister's hand to read it for herself. Bucky shrugs.

"Why not?" He asks. Gamora gives him an 'are-you-serious?' expression and Natasha scoffs.

"I can think of a reason," she murmurs, brushing a hand over Scarlett's sleeping head.


"Kill him," Nebula says suddenly, throwing the letter down onto the table in disgust.

"Concurred," Wade calls from the living room. "Kill him."

Bucky rolls his eyes, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. "Children please," he chastises, shooting both Wade and Nebula a look usually reserved for Seb and Lettie.

"Jamie," Wade sighs from where he'd paused in the doorway, Sebastian cuddled to his chest. "Just end him for fuck's sake. He's a lying liar who lies. Cheaters are evil and deserve death."

Bucky frowns, watching as Seb tugs at Wade's shirt, quietly asking to be let down. The Omega opens his arms for his son to toddle into, scooping him up and hugging him close. "Listen," he sighs. "I got over it a long time ago. What happened between me and Steve was in the past, we need to move on. We're going home and it's going to be fun. Everything will be fine."

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"James?" Thor cocks his head, raising an eyebrow at Loki.

"Apparently. Mother and Mrs Barnes still have lunch every Friday, and according to her, Mrs Barnes said she's expecting him within the week," Loki hums, studying his nails as a small smirk pulls at his lips. "And he's not coming alone."

"Oh?" Thor asks curiously, leaning closer over the table. After what had happened with Sharon and Steve, none of them had really heard anything of James apart from the occasional rumour. Thor's personal favourite was that he'd disappeared to Paris and had found himself a mate, while Tony was convinced he was working as a high-class courtesan in Russian and Parker was certain he was working as a mercenary. Thor's ninety-five per cent sure Loki had started those two.

"His wife and kids are coming too," Loki reveals, watching Thor out of the corner of his eye as if waiting for a big reaction. Thor smiles.

"Good," he says, leaning back. "I'm glad. James deserves that kind of stability and happiness."

"You're not... Upset?" Loki asks curiously.

"I got over James a long time ago, brother," Thor huffs. It was no secret that Thor had harboured the biggest crush for the Omega when they were younger, and Loki still seemed to find it hilarious. "I'm happy for him, truly." And he was. He'd been furious and upset for the Omega when he'd found out about Steve and Sharon, he made no effort to hide his dislike for the woman, and hurt when James had seemingly disappeared off the face of the world with not a word to any of them, but he was honestly glad James was finally happy.

Loki huffs, tapping his fingers against the table. "Either way," he begins, lips curling back up into a smirk that reads trouble. "This will be a fun event indeed." He pauses, giving the table a considering look before laughing, "I can't wait to see Steve and Sharon's faces!"

Thor groans.

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"Thanks, Carol. Tell Jessica we say hi."

Bucky glances up from his suitcase as Natasha enters the room, throwing her phone onto the bed and flopping down beside it with a groan.

"You okay?" He asks softly, climbing onto the bed and lying down beside her.

"Fine," she grumbles.

"Mhm," Bucky hums, nodding solemnly in agreement and earning himself a dirty look from his Alpha.

"I'm just oh so looking forward to this holiday," she admits, tone and expression falsely joyful. "I cannot wait to meet your cheating ex."

Bucky shakes his head and sighs, hooking an arm around her waist and pressing his face against her stomach as she instantly pushes a hand into his hair, curling it around her fingers. "It's gonna suck," he quietly concedes. "But we'll get through it, we always do." Natasha doesn't respond but hums absently.

"Besides," he adds, shifting on his elbows to look at her. "It won't suck the whole time, we'll have some fun with the kids and my folks. My sisters will be there too, and I know my old school friends are gonna want to catch up— Fucking fuck," he curses suddenly, causing Natasha to let out a startled laugh. Sitting up, he leans back and glowers. "Nat, no. They're going to actually kill me— rahat. I haven't spoken to any of them in years, Jesus fucking— nenorocitule."

Natasha just laughs harder as he flops onto his stomach beside her with a dramatic groan. "Well then," she laughs, smirking as she turns to face him. "At least I won't be bored."

"I'm glad to know you find my suffering amusing. Go on, laugh at my expense," Bucky huffs, desperately trying to keep the smile off of his face as she leans down to kiss him.

"I love you," she whispers against his lips, giving him that rare soft and happy smile she reserves just for him.

"Yeah, I love you too."




"The fuck Steve?!"

Steve glances up as Sharon walks into the room, a pale envelope clutched so tightly in her hand she's crushing it.

"May I know why," she begins in that calm tone that means she's secretly furious. "We just revived a letter in the mail from one James Buchanan Barnes accepting an invitation to our wedding?"

"He agreed?" Steve asks honestly surprised, Sharon's question momentarily forgotten. He'd known giving Winifred the letter had been a long shot, that Bucky would most likely burn the letter rather than read it. But no, apparently the Omega hadn't.

He's changed, a quiet part of Steve's mind hums, remembering the bold Omega from high school who would have burnt it, maybe even Steve along with it. What did you expect, he's grown up, he's matured, he doesn't need us anymore, another darker part of Steve's mind sneers.

"He did," Sharon confirms, cutting off Steve's train of thought. "And I'm wondering why."

"Well," Steve hedges, the feeling of defensiveness prickling at his mind. "You did say I could invite anyone."

Sharon purses her lips and places the letter on the table, her eyes narrowed at Steve in a considering look. "I suppose I did," she sighs. "In that case, I'm going to go meet our wedding planner." And with that, she leaves.

Steve practically lunges for the letter when he hears the door click shut.

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"I can't believe this bullshit," Rebecca huffs angrily, shaking the letter. "That insolent, insensitive, insufferable ass!"

"Your vocabulary is astounding as always Rebecca but please, shut up," Winifred sighs, tapping, only slightly nervously, at her phone. Her little James would arrive at any moment with Natasha and the grandchildren.

"I just can't believe this, Ma!" Rebecca scoffs, thumping the letter down, scandalised. "He's marrying the bitch-"

"Becca please."

"-he cheated on Bucky with, and he has the gall to invite us, as well as Bucky and his family!"

"Your brothers moved on, Rebecca," Winifred reminds her gently, placing her phone on the table to give her daughter her full attention. "He's happy and loved. He's decided to be the better man and accept Steven's invitation, even if it was... Tasteless."

"Hasn't he hurt Bucky enough though, Ma?"

And doesn't that just strike at Winifred's heart. Her Jamie had been so hurt by what Steven had done, and by god if Winifred hadn't wanted to march over to the boys' house and drag him outside for an ass whopping, but James had been so sincere when he'd asked her to "please Ma, just leave it". Her little boy was a man now, with a family of his own, and was willing to set the past aside and show his support for his oldest friend. Winifred couldn't be more proud, even if she hates the hurt that Rogers boy had caused her son.

"Your brothers moved on, Rebecca," George finally speaks, echoing his wife's earlier words. "It's time we do the same. Even though I'd still like to box his ears," he adds with a smirk.

Winifred rolls her eyes fondly, ready to reprimand her husband when Rebecca lets out a squeal, running to throw the front door open and escape out into the yard.

"Aunty Becca!" Winifred hears a little voice excitedly shout as she quickly pushes herself out of the chair, just as eager to see the rest of the family as her daughter. She practically runs to the door, George hot on her heels.

"Hey Ma," James, as beautiful as ever, waves over the chaos of Rebecca and the children.

"Oh Jamie," Winifred gushes, pulling her baby boy to her chest once he's near enough to reach. "I'm so happy to see you all."

"We're happy to be here, Winnie," Natasha says, smiling as George pulls her against his side, using his other arm to pull Winifred and James in as Rebecca and the children throw themselves into the group hug.

It's been so long since they were all here like this, together and happy like a family, that Winifred can't help but cry.

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Hey lads, it's been a while. Keeping this short. I just wanna apologise for not keeping up with this fic, but, as some of you probably know, I'm having a really tough time lately. I might rework this entire thing, but that's not a promise. All I can say is I won't be continuing on with this story line, and I'm really sorry about that. If you're reading my other fics, I'm sorry for falling behind on those as well, but I'm hoping to still continue on with a few but not all. Thank you all, hope you lads are doing well, taking care of yourselves and having a wonderful holidays. Merry Christmas!