Captain America and Bucky Barnes Imagines

69. Sweet Sixteen... Pt.2

A/N: This was another request! Thank you for that! I had fun writing this one :) Two years after Sweet Sixteen, so Reader is now 18! Oh and in case anyone forgot reader has pain manipulation and creation abilities.

-Winnie

Words: 2.8K

           

"Now get the hell out of here before I do something I regret." Steve's hands clenched into fists at his sides. He stood blocking your doorway as the boy he'd walked in on you making out with on the couch scrambled to gather his things and leave.

"I'll, uh, I'll text you..."

"No—you won't." Steve glared at the poor boy with killer blue eyes turned black. "Leave. And don't come back."

That's the confrontation that has you and the super soldier screaming across the compound kitchen at each other for the whole damn world to see.

"I'm eighteen goddamn years old, Steve! I don't need you babysitting me!" Your arms are thrown up in defeat as he steams in front of the fridge.

"You're only eighteen! He was twenty three! And clearly not in your league..."

You interrupt the speech you've heard a dozen times already about a dozen other boys. Your cover your face. "Shut up! Just shut up already!"

"Steve's right, Sassy." Bucky chews lethargically on his apple and adds his stupid two-sense into the fight. His use of your cheesy nickname that everyone on the team has adopted for you only manages to make you madder.

"I'm not a kid anymore! And you two fuck-ups certainly aren't my parents, as much as you like to think so!"

Steve gasps. "I beg your pardon, young lady?"

"THIS IS WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!" you scream. You run your fingers through your hair and groan—loudly. "You're not my father, Steve!" You turn and point at Bucky, who—you guessed it—already has his mouth opened to say something. "And you are DEFINITELY not my mother, Barnes!"

Steve takes a step closer to you. His face has grown softer since the boy ran away twenty minutes before but his voice is still strict. "We might not be your parents, Y/N, but we're your family."

You grit your teeth and look between the two of them. It's not fair. You lost your childhood to this curse of a power, and then you lost your parents to Hydra. Your teenage years were spent saving the world—your 17th birthday ended with the destruction of a purple dick-head alien called Thanos. Your whole life is a hot mess. And at the root of it all? Your stupid fucking powers, that's what.

Why can't you just be normal?

All of your anger is bubbling up inside of you until you can't control it anymore. The pain that's created in the pot at your core is starting to overfill. It boils over and threatens to spill out into the room—into the men closest to you now. And as pissed as you are, you won't let your pain touch them. So you dissolve it all into your own body with a swallowed shriek.

Steve—face no longer angry—lunges towards you. Bucky chokes on his apple when you fall to your knees.

"Y/N!" Your name leaves Steve's mouth in a yelp.

"Leave me alone!" you shriek. You push Steve off of you as he tries to hold you. He staggers back, eyes big and sad, and you stumble to your feet. "Just—just leave me alone!" You storm out of the room before either of them can say anything more: taking all of your pain with you.

In your room you slam and lock the door. For good measure you push your desk against it as a barricade. You need to be alone. Funny, isn't it? Those few weeks following your parents deaths you were constantly alone: having no family or friends to call your own. Now, as the baby of the team, you can't get a single moment to yourself without someone—