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Both Bucky and Steve let out a weary sigh, the weight of their concerns still lingering in the air. They exchanged a brief glance before Bucky spoke, his tone tinged with resignation. "Fine, go. But remember, we're here for you. If anything happens or if you need us, call immediately."

Steve nodded in agreement, his voice filled with a mixture of love and caution. "And be safe, Y/n. We mean it."

I felt a twinge of guilt for the lies I had woven, for the worry I had caused them. But in that moment, the allure of the party beckoned, promising an escape from the weight of my troubles.

As I turned to leave, Bucky's voice stopped me in my tracks. "Y/n, one more thing. Remember that trust is a fragile thing. Rebuilding it takes time and honesty."

I met his gaze, the gravity of his words sinking in. "I understand, papa. I'll do my best."

With a heavy heart, I stepped out into the night, the echoes of their concerns following me like a shadow. I knew that my actions had strained our relationship, but I held on to a glimmer of hope that I could mend the damage I had caused.

Little did I know that the night would take a dark turn, testing the limits of their trust and my own resilience. Lost in a whirlwind of reckless indulgence, I pushed my limits, indulging in excessive drinking and smoking, seeking solace in a haze of temporary oblivion.

The night wore on, and the consequences of my choices began to unfold. I found myself on the cold, unforgiving streets, disoriented and vulnerable. Darkness swallowed me whole, and I succumbed to the weight of my actions, my body giving in to the intoxication that held me captive.

The next evening, I stumbled through the front door, my appearance a reflection of the chaos that had consumed me. Bruised and battered, I could sense the wave of anger and worry emanating from my fathers as they rushed to my side.

Bucky's face twisted in a mixture of relief and fury. "Where have you been? We've been worried sick!"

Steve's voice trembled with a potent blend of concern and anger. "Do you have any idea what you put us through? We thought something terrible had happened to you!"

My voice slurred, my words barely coherent as I tried to explain. "I... I didn't mean to... I lost track of time."

Their eyes locked with mine, and in that moment, they saw the truth etched upon my haggard face. As they looked into my bloodshot eyes, dimly lit by the remnants of my reckless night, the realization dawned upon them. The flicker of disappointment mingled with a simmering rage, an unmistakable reflection of their shattered trust.

Bucky's voice quivered with restrained anger. "Have you been taking drugs?"

As I felt the weight of their stares, panic surged within me. I desperately tried to evade their scrutiny, hoping to maintain my facade of innocence. I averted my gaze, looking anywhere but into their eyes, and mustered my best attempt at a convincing plea.

Y/n: "I'm a good kid, Papa. I wouldn't do something like that. I promise."

My voice trembled with a mix of fear and desperation. I clung to the hope that my words would be enough to sway their suspicions, to convince them that I hadn't succumbed to the temptations that haunted me every step.

Bucky and Steve exchanged a solemn glance, their concern palpable. Bucky's voice held a firm edge, tinged with disappointment.

Bucky: "Y/n, we want to believe you. But something doesn't add up. We've seen the changes in you, the nights you don't come home, the lies. It's tearing us apart."

Steve, his voice filled with a mix of sadness and anger, added, "We've been worried sick about you. We love you more than anything, but we can't keep turning a blind eye to what's happening."

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