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artficlly · 1 year

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face the music (chapter 3)

Music College Marvel AU - Chapter 3

!frat!musician!bucky x !frat!musician!steve x !musician!femreader

Warnings: angst, mentions choking, swearing, implications of previous abuse, ptsd, fluff

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: i got carried away ahaha. also i dont know anything about music or music lingo so pls don't kill me (maybe im an idiot for making a MUSIC SCHOOL AU with no knowledge on music beyond 'hey that song sounds cool lmao) anyway it's gonna start getting fluff n fun soon k bye. not proof read

chapter masterlist | main masterlist

Lunch felt shorter than usual, you could only assume it was the dread making you feel that way. You felt a little better after getting some food into your body, less shaky and more ready to get the day over and done with. You lingered in the hallway outside the class, mentally preparing yourself to enter. Through the small window in the door, you could tell they were setting up for the impromptu performances. One of the A’s must've insisted on a livestream, you could see Scott and Clint fiddling around with a camera.

The College was very big about its online presence. With the rise of social media and the influencer, it was only natural for the aspiring musicians to get an early taste of fame. Teenagers and adults tuned in around the world to see their live streams, to get a glimpse of the next rockstar before they made it big. You had mainly stayed out of that world, being a classical pianist people tended to not glance your way a second time. You had been on live streams before, most of your assignments were uploaded online somewhere. People weren’t particularly interested in classical pianists though, most of their attention turned to Group A’s future rockstars. It had only been when you had stepped onto that stage to sing as Sharon’s replacement that it felt like the world finally looked back at you.

You wondered if your mother would be proud. Or disappointed. Your entire childhood had been about singing, the opera, making you into a mini-copy of her. After her death… you were repulsed by it. You fell in love with the piano and never looked back. You didn’t want to be her. You didn’t want to be that corpse. Your father had understood, supported you throughout. A part of you was torn, you had the capabilities to sing… but did you really want to? Your scholarship was for the piano. The Annual Showing, it had been funny at the time. But now with bruises, angry stares and your own sanity on the line? You wanted to fall back to your piano, let the soft notes and tapping of the keys lull you away from all of this. It would be easier that way, to just slip back into the shadows.

“You didn’t wait.” A deep voice broke your brooding.

“Huh?” You ask, looking over to see Bucky and Steve in the hallway next to you. They must’ve returned from lunch late too. You hated that a small part of you felt happy that Bucky was talking to you. You hated that you actually enjoyed his attention.

“At the party. You didn’t wait.” Bucky explains, crossing his arms over his chest. You have to hold back a gulp at the sight of the metal bulging against his shirt. You don’t even reply, instead sucking in a breath and shrugging your shoulders at the two of them. You didn’t know if you could trust yourself to speak in this state. The party, Starks office… god it had done a number on your brain. You were surprised they weren’t repulsed by you because you had embarrassingly shutdown and ran out of that office this morning. Though, something in your stomach told you they didn’t blame you. Steve had stepped in to defend you when Stark had accused you of provoking John. Steve looks between you and Bucky before speaking up. There was a soft guilt in his eyes when he caught your gaze. Your throat felt dry.

“Look. We’re sorry about what happened.” Steve offers. Swallowing thickly, you arch an eyebrow. Maybe you had mistaken their pity for kindness.

“Why are you apologizing? It’s not like you were the one that-” You start with a confused tone but Bucky cuts you off.

“We sent him over.”

Silence washes over the hallway as you feel shock roll over your body. Steve looks over at Bucky with an irritated expression, like Bucky wasn’t supposed to say that. John hadn’t approached you because he was idiotic and drunk, but because he had been asked to? You had spent the whole weekend stewing over that, why you, why had he chosen you? You had fallen back into that pit of blaming yourself all weekend, anxiety eating away at your core. You had blamed yourself for Loki’s beating, for winning the Annual Showing. It was like those years ago where everything was your fault no matter how hard you tried. Both Bucky and Steve wear guilty expressions as you speak up.

“You sent John over. To do that?” You keep your voice steady, but once again you can feel yourself spiraling. You didn’t know if you were more upset with them or yourself. You had let yourself become consumed by guilt, let yourself slip back into that state of mind where you were always at fault. Maybe if you had been stronger, less damaged, less you… maybe then you wouldn’t be feeling like this. He had told you time again how weak and pathetic you were. You had thought you were doing better, and all it had taken was one nudge and you fell back into that mindset.

“Listen. Just a few of us thought it would be funny to rile up John and send him your way. Like scare you or whatever… we didn’t think he would do that.” Steve gestures at your bruised neck. You don’t know if you’re there listening or floating outside of your body. They couldn’t have known, wouldn’t have… but it still didn’t make it any better. They had meant to humiliate you, they had wanted to tear you down. You realize you’ve been staring at the wall in silence for a long moment. You were sick of feeling sorry for yourself, sick of crying and hiding. You were sick of the nightmares, the spiral this weekend had sent you on. You were sick of being weak because of your past. Your eyes meet Bucky’s, his brows furrowed as he recognised the anger crossing your face.

“You…What the fuck is wrong with you?” You snap. You can’t believe that earlier you had felt bad that they had been dragged to Stark’s office. You can’t believe you felt guilty that you had made them split up that fight. They had started this, they had caused these problems and feelings. The anxiety in your stomach slowly began to boil into rage as you took in the two of them, looking down guiltily like some dogs who had been caught doing something they weren’t supposed to. They had hurt you, someone they had never bothered to get to know, and expected you to forgive them because they felt bad?

“Look,” Steve says with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “We just thought it would be a harmless prank, to scare you a bit. We didn’t mean anything by it-”

“What the fuck did I do to you? Why do I deserve to be screamed at and embarrassed for your entertainment?” You spit. Everything dawned on you at that moment. That’s why none of them had lifted a finger to help you at first. They had wanted it to happen, they had wanted you to be scared. They had wanted to scare you, to laugh at you. They had wanted you to feel small and weak, beneath them.

“After he grabbed your throat we stepped in, we didn’t think he was going to do that.”

“What about with Loki? Were you just going to sit back and watch him get beat to death?” Both of them looked surprised at that comment, almost like they had completely forgotten you weren’t the only victim, or the only one who needed an apology.

“To be fair, Loki is an asshole-”

“Fuck you.” You seeth, moving to open the door to the classroom when Steve blocks your way. You flinch back, not wanting to be so close to him. Any feelings of butterflies or school girl crushes had left your body, replaced with a burning fire of resentment and fear. You hated that even in your outrage you were still afraid, still scared of what Steve and Bucky could be capable of if they returned your fury.

“We were drunk and angry. We’re sorry. It was fucked up of us. We were just caught up on how you guys cheated and not how dangerous it could be. We just thought… I don’t know. Scott didn’t tell us about-”

“Steve,” Bucky speaks up, voice low with a tone of warning. He had taken a step away from you, as if he had noticed the way you flinched away.

“Wow,” You say with a bitter laugh. You can feel your composure beginning to break, wringing your fingers together. Of course, of course they believe you cheated. “You’re really so stuck in that privileged rich boy persona, aren’t you? That just because I’m on scholarship means I must’ve fucked someone not because I have talent-”

“What?” Steve and Bucky say in unison, you take a step back, confused.

“That’s what John said. Said that I must’ve slept with someone-” You begin to explain.

“What? No! We didn’t say you cheated like that - jesus.” Steve said, with a look of horror. He looks over to Bucky, who was running his human hand over his face, his metal one clenched into a fist.

“John said that to you? What a fucking psycho-” Bucky mutters under his breath. You can only give the two of them another confused look.

“Wait - what did you think happened then? Why are you going around saying we cheated?” You ask. The two of them just look at each other, Bucky shakes his head as if warning Steve to shut up.

“We were saying that you must’ve cheated because you can’t sing! It had to be a recording of Sharon that was altered to hit the notes she can’t.” Steve says. You feel yourself laughing bitterly before you can process it. All these cruel words and violence, because someone started a rumor that you couldn’t sing? You have to calm yourself before you can speak, Steve is looking at you like you’ve gone mad, while Bucky looks like he’s ready to give up and walk away.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I mean… Come on darling. You’re a pianist, you got into this college for piano. You’ve never sung here before - you just expected us to just believe you? Sharon’s a trained singer and even she can’t hit those notes.”

You ignore the clench in your gut at the word darling. Fucking blond bastard making you feel things other than anger. You can feel another laugh bubbling in your chest. All you can do is shake your head in disbelief. If they had just asked you - had ever bothered to try and interact with you, they would’ve known you could sing. Your entire class knew you were originally a singer, they had heard you sing before. You had never used your voice for assignments because you were a pianist and you didn’t want to step on Sharon’s toes.

“So you… still think we cheated? You do realize I am about to sing right now? For this stupid performance thing? Which is entirely your fault by the way - if you had just asked, you’d know that I am, well, I used to be a singer?” You say. Bucky laughs - he actually laughs at this interaction. Steve has a mortified expression.

“I believed you. And Scott did too. Those idiots are just sore losers,” Bucky chuckles as Steve rubs his face with an annoyed expression. All you can do is just roll your eyes.

“I don’t care if you believed me or not. You’re both assholes.” you say, stepping towards the door. Bucky pulls Steve away so you can reach for the handle without having to touch him. You can see Steve opening his mouth to say something but you cut in before he can.

“And for the record, I don’t forgive you.”

Throughout every performance you were boiling with rage. You had hoped that by the time it was your group's turn to take the stage, that you would’ve calmed down. One look at Natasha’s sneering face had sent you back into seeing only red. All afternoon you had heard them snickering about how you were going to make a fool of yourself, that Group B would expose themselves for cheating (in front of not only Group A - but an entire livestreamed audience).

While setting up the microphone next to the piano, Peter sends you a look of concern.

“You gonna okay hitting some of these notes? Not that I doubt your ability - just that you did nearly get choked to death a couple days ago.” He says, adjusting the height of the microphone stand so the microphone sits at mouth level. You muster a comforting smile despite the anger coursing through your veins.

“It’ll be fine. I got this.” You say quietly, taking your seat in front of the piano. Peter just nods and retreats to the drum set, Yelena and Kate fumbling around with the violin and cello. Your back was mainly turned away from the camera. If you looked in the corner of your eye, you could see the couches where most of Group A were seated. You were kind of grateful for that - you wanted to see their gobsmacked expressions when you hit every note. Sharon was practically bouncing where she stood. Before her solo, you had managed to explain your heated conversation with Steve and Bucky in the hallway. You were thankful that she was as excited as you were to show Group A what fools they were. The song you were performing was a jazz cover, thankfully due to your past singing opera you could quite easily slip into most styles of singing with some practice. Luckily, you had plenty of practice thanks to Sharon. When the jazz assignments were due, you had spent many hours helping Sharon with her notes, or stepping in as singer for the rest of the class if Sharon was busy.

You only had to wait a few more moments before the others motioned that they were ready. You ignored the grins dripping with malice coming from Group A, the snorts and laughs. You put your attention on the black and white keys in front of you. With a sharp exhale, you press your fingers into the keys, starting the song. You always played better when you were angry, or when you were playing for revenge. As you moved, fingers gracefully navigating the keys you could feel the rage pouring out of you into the music. Peter fell in on the drums, and then so did the violin and cello. You had to suppress a smile as it was your cue to start singing.

The start of the song was slow, basic notes to hit that weren’t too hard. You could hear Natasha scoff and turn to Wanda.

“Anyone could hit those notes, so what, she can sing the basics? Doesn’t prove anything.”

You had to zone out Wanda’s reply, instead focusing all your energy into keeping your voice and fingers steady. The one thing you could always guarantee was that when you were in this state of mind, you played like a fucking god. You could see Bucky and Scott grinning as you rocked in time with the music, body moving along each time you pressed the piano’s pedals.

By the time the first higher note came, you were completely absorbed by the music. You barely even noticed how Natasha’s smile began to drop, the way Sam slapped Steve’s back with a laugh. Your focus was entirely on that note, controlling your breath to sing it out perfectly as your fingers worked along the keys.

Sharon was grinning from ear to ear, Kate just gaping at you, completely ignoring the sheet music as she pulled her violins bow back and forth. The song slowed again for a brief moment, before Peter came back in with the drums. The finale was why he had been worried about your injured throat, this is where you would show Group A how well you could hit those harder notes. You could’ve hit them even better if you were standing, but your loyalties would always lie with your piano.

Steve looked like he wanted to jump into a hole in the floor, as the realisation dawned on him that not only could you sing (and well) but he had entirely fucked up by questioning you. You could imagine he was holding onto the hope that you had been bluffing, that he wouldn’t have to feel as guilty about what had happened at the party. Natasha was scowling, punching Clint as he twirled in time with the music as you hit note after note. Bucky was just smirking, leaning back in his chair as he watched your fingers work tirelessly. That feeling was back in your gut, that flutter. For how much of an asshole Bucky and Steve had been, why did the idea of impressing them motivate you?

“Dude! I told you she was trained in singing opera!” You heard Scott boast as you hit one of the longer notes, controlling your breath perfectly until the end. The song finally faded out along with your last note. The room erupted into cheers and clapping, with the exception being a sour-faced Natasha. All you could manage was a smile as you resisted the strong urge to catch Bucky or Steve’s eyes with your own.

After Sharon had spent a good ten minutes gushing about how you had killed it with the vocals, life had moved on. A few of Group A sent you sheepish smiles - a peace offering. You had tried to ignore it, claiming yourself a couch in the back to watch the last of the performances.

Scott had come over at one point, planting a sloppy kiss to your hairline while you squealed in protest. Natasha had sent you a dirty look for that, telling the two of you to shut up. Scott ignored her, flopping over the couch, nearly landing on your legs as you slapped his shoulder.

“I have a present for you…” He said in a quiet sign-song voice, grabbing your legs by the knees and placing them over his lap. You rolled your eyes, grinning, so much for brooding in peace.

“Oh yeah?” You said with a quiet giggle, relaxing further into the couch. You and Scott had been friends awhile, smoking buddies. Much like with Loki, you were rather relaxed with touching or cuddling. The two of you had too many deep conversations while high to shy away from each other, if anything Scott probably knew about as much as your therapist. You had told him all about your mother, how her death had changed things… him and everything that had happened. He had returned the favor, telling you private things about his own life that not many others had the pleasure of knowing.

Scott leaned in close to your ear, whispering for you to reach into his pocket. Inside was a baggie, a pre-rolled blunt inside. You gasp, slapping him on the shoulder.

“Oh my god Scott, don’t show that on stream or Stark will be pissed!” You hiss, shoving the baggie back in. Scott just wheezed a laugh in response, letting you shove him back to his side of the couch. As you stuck your tongue out at him, you couldn’t help but notice the way Steve and Bucky were watching the two of you. Both of them looked on edge, jaws and arms tensed. Were they… jealous?

“Look at this,” Scott laughed from beside you, shoving his phone into your face. Your eyes turned away from the two brooding men as you bit back a laugh and rolled your eyes.

“Are you laughing at memes… about you?” You ask, handing him the phone back. Scott was rather infamous for having a small subreddit dedicated to making memes about him. He checked and interacted with it religiously. That would be if you could consider anything about Scott religious.

“Hey! Just because you don’t have any fans!” Scott protested, waving his phone about. You could practically feel Natasha’s scowl on the two of you from across the room. Maybe you’d have to put getting your teeth punched out of your head back on your list of worries.

“Yours just make fun of you!” You protest, gently kicking his thigh with your foot. He just grins at you. Leaning back, he looks up at the ceiling dreamily.

“I know! It’s great!” He laughs, bouncing his knee underneath where your legs are thrown over his lap.

You snort and roll your eyes, unlocking your own phone. You try to keep still as Scott jolts the entire couch with his bouncing. The last performance had ended, Sam and Clint working on turning off the livestream as the room suddenly moved into groups. You knew during the performances that people had started calling dibs, you hadn’t really cared to interact or include yourself in anything. You guessed you would end up with Scott, Sharon, Peter and maybe MJ. If anything you were leaving it up to fate, hoping you’d end up with either a group that was interesting or with people you liked.

“Scott!” Sharon’s voice rang out, motioning the man over. Sliding his phone into his pocket, he pulls himself up from the couch. You let out another squeal as he goes in for a kiss on the cheek, pushing your foot into his stomach to send him away. Natasha was going to fucking kill you.

“Bye Scotty,” You say in a sing-song voice, mocking his voice from earlier. He just shakes his head at you, running his hand through his hair as he looks between you and where Sharon is waiting.

“Are you free after this? This baby won’t smoke itself,” He asks, patting his pocket. You grin up at him, snuggling yourself deeper into the couch now that you have it all to yourself.

“Oh, are we sharing now? I thought it was a present for me.” You say, fidgeting with the neckline of your sweater.

“Scott!” Sharon shouts from somewhere across the room. Scott cringes, before leaning over and shaking his finger in your face.

“We’ll finish this conversation later,” Scott says, before reluctantly crossing the room towards Sharon. She scolds him, before giving in as he wraps her into a hug. You bite your tongue to hold back your laugh, flicking your attention down to your phone as you lounge on the couch. Your peace is short lived, though.

“Siren.” your eyes shoot up from your phone with a scowl, above you stands Bucky, a smirk across his lips. You subconsciously squeeze your thighs together, drinking in his expression. You’re still pissed at him - and Steve - but you can’t help but enjoy the attention from the brunette.

“Why do you keep calling me that?” You ask, pulling your feet off the couch as Sam crashes onto the other side with a huff. You flinch a bit at that, having not expected to be sitting so closely to a wall of muscle. Their frat house was obsessed with the gym (all except Scott) so they were all ridiculously muscled. You see Bucky’s smirk falter a bit at your flinch, eyes darting over to Sam who seemingly got the message and scoots further over.

“Barnes has a thing for beautiful women who can sing and also eat a man whole,” Sam says. You fein disgust at that comment, shoving yourself deeper into the corner of the couch to get some distance between you and Sam. That feeling is in your gut again - no, it was lower - what had Bucky said about you to Sam to warrant you being called beautiful?

“Shut it Wilson,” Bucky growls, to which Sam puts his hands up in fake-surrender with a laugh. “You’re in our group, Siren.”

You pause for a second, noticing how Steve approaches as well. Bucky a drummer, Sam a bassist, Steve a guitarist… and you? Your eyes snap up to Bucky’s. You had to silently remind yourself that you were supposed to be mad at them, that they had fucked up. It was hard when Bucky’s expression softened as he watched you.

“What?” You ask, pinching your thigh through your jeans. You had to focus, stop falling into dreamy ideas at just a look from either Bucky or Steve.

“We called dibs. And I mean, you didn’t really involve yourself in the conversation… you were too busy cuddling Scott.” You swear you can hear a bitterness in Bucky’s tone at the mention of Scott. You snort, crossing your arms over your chest. Steve is watching you carefully, wetting his lips. You try to ignore it, instead digging your nails into your arm through your sweater.

“I’m a pianist. A classical pianist, and you’re what? Wannabe rockstars? How is that going to work?” You point out with a small laugh. Bucky tilts his head at you, standing above you like that he looks so…

“You’re also a singer? As much as Stevie here hates to be wrong-” Steve groans at that as Bucky claps him on the back, “Opera at that, you can sing pretty much anything with a bit of guidance.”

You chew on your lip at that, uncrossing your arms to rest your palms on your thighs, glancing between the three men. Of course they would want to be paired with you, not like they had already tormented you enough? You could imagine it was out of guilt, somehow convincing themselves that if you got good grades for this assignment it would be payment for all they had done. In any other situation they wouldn’t have been interested in you, probably wouldn’t have even known you existed

“What if I say no?” You ask. You could easily argue that you were too traumatized from the incident to do this assignment. You would get away easily, the boys? Well they would be fucked, scrambling to find someone from Group B to put up with their shit.

“Then deal with Stark. I don’t care. Listen, we know this is our fault. We’ll keep apologizing and somehow make it up to you. Just be our vocals for this assignment?” Bucky says, a slight begging tone to his voice. You roll your teeth over your bottom lip. You don’t know what would be better - to completely fuck them over, or go along with it and watch them beg for your forgiveness.

“Why not Natasha? Or Sharon?” You ask, motioning in their general direction. Steve watches your movements like a hawk while Sam groans for you to stop being so tedious.

“I mean, they’re both great singers but not for what we want. They’re like… pop, indie shit. We want something a bit more edgy.” Bucky explains, you arch an eyebrow.

“Because an ex-opera is edgy?” You say sarcastically, you can practically feel the vibrations of Steve’s groan in your chest. That makes you smile.

“Y/L/N.” Bucky warns, you just beam up at him.

“Barnes.”

The two of you stare at each other for a long moment, you can feel Sam uncomfortably squirming beside you, like he can sense the tension.

“Just say yes, please?” Steve speaks up finally, surprising you. You glance over at him, looking him up and down. Your eyes pause for a moment on his biceps, then on his face as he assesses you with a pleading look. You figured you’d probably tortured him enough - the entire day he had seemingly gone through all the stages of grief.

“Fine. But you owe me.” You reply with a sigh, finally giving in.

“Thank you,” Bucky says with a gentle smile. You roll your eyes at him, they still owed you big fucking time.

“Too easy. I should’ve made you beg on your knees for it,” You mutter, voicing your annoyance, with a shake of your head. Bucky and Steve exchange a look you can’t quite see, but you can sense the invisible tension.

“Nah, they would’ve been way too into it,” Sam says from beside you with a chuckle. Your eyes snap to him. Steve responds by hitting Sam’s shoulder, Sam yelping in response. You watch cautiously, waiting to see if Sam settles back into the couch or tries to fight back. To your relief, he leans back. Bucky eyes your caution with his own cautious stare before speaking up.

“Tonight then?” He asks, you shake your head.

“I can’t. Loki’s being discharged so I gotta deal with that. Tomorrow?” You purposely ignore the face Steve makes at the mention of Loki. You would really have to ask Loki what the fuck that was about. Maybe when he wasn’t delirious on pain medication.

“Sure. Tomorrow, 6pm?”

“That works, better to do it at yours. I think Thor might castrate you if you came near the apartment.” You say, Bucky chuckles weakly. You can’t tell if it’s to humor you, or that he genuinely didn’t believe Thor could best him. God, you were surrounded by far too many hot muscled men.

“Sounds like a plan.” You chirp, snatching up your bag as you stand from the couch. Bucky and Steve both stand clear out of your way as you depart without a goodbye.

Chapter 4

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