#IM ON THE FLOOR SCREAMINH

[crashing-all-modes]

GUYS. GUYS. GUYS THIS HAS TO BE ABOUT WILL

WERE GETTING A FLASHBACK

IVE LITERALLY EVAPORATED HELP GUYS

[treatbuckywkisses]

em i have so many feelings again

You know it by heart as you were the one practising with him in the car on the way to the studio. You knew Bucky was better at memorising lines than he had let on, he was a professional actor after all, but it made your stomach tingle with butterflies to think he was purposely messing up the lines to get you to laugh and playfully reprimand him. shut your face rn:((((( this is so soft i can't handle them

“Maybe I just like when you pull me close and do it for me.” Your cheeks heat like the sun and you shyly break eye contact to look at the floor, a feeling that’s all too familiar when you’re around Bucky, but is still a reaction you haven’t mastered in concealing from him. You suspect he does it on purpose. he's so cheeky😭 i love him

Before he can disappear into the corridor, Bucky looks back at you, an instinctive smile tugging at the corners of his mouth when he finds you already looking at him. He shoots you a wink before making his way towards the stage. *sighs dreamily* i want him

Bucky stands tall and broad in the doorway, but you’ve never seen him look so small. enough:( this hurt me

You stand there, softly rubbing Bucky’s back and whispering sweet nothings into his ear, as he cries into your shoulder. Your heart, which Bucky already owns completely, shatters alongside his. ENOUGH:( I CANT ONSFSKDG IM SO HEARTBROKEN FOR HIM

“Home sounds good.” Bucky comments, but by the way he’s nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck and how he’s holding you tight against him, it doesn’t seem like he’s in a rush to get there. stop:( he's just a baby i would hold him forever

“Really, who doesn’t?” Me, you want to declare, but you question the implications of saying it aloud and the word dies in the back of your throat. You’re his assistant, just his assistant, and it’s inappropriate and unprofessional for you to infer otherwise. EM YOU HAVE TO BE KIDDING IM SCREAMINH SO LOUD CAN YOU HEAR IT

“Can you stay with me tonight? I don’t wanna be alone right now.” You’re sure you’ll never be able to say no to Bucky Barnes, but when his eyes look as fragile as a bubble floating in the wind, ready to pop at any given second, all you want is to pull him close and keep him safe forever. everything about this is so special to me you don't understand:(

“I just want you.” okay fine i am in love with you let me have him

their dynamic is so everything:((( it is so so so precious to me they are so in love i can't handle it omg im giving you and your big beautiful brain one giant forever kiss from me i adore you so much and i don't think im able to ever stop

Everyone’s Watching Him (But He’s Looking At Her) (2)

Actor!Bucky Barnes x Assistant!Fem!Reader

< < PART 1

Summary: It’s Bucky’s big late night interview promoting his new movie, but when the interviewer asks a question which causes Bucky to storm off the set, you’re there to comfort him.

Warnings: idiots in love, hurt comfort, interviewer brings up questions which crosses Bucky’s boundaries, shy/insecure reader, soft fluff

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: this is dedicated to the beautiful and kind @blackwidownat2814 because I love you so much and I know you wanted more of these two! You said you haven’t been feeling the best lately so I hope this cheers you up, even just a little 💜 photo credit @deardjo, banners by @vase-of-lilies

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“You’re on in five, Mr Barnes!” A voice calls to Bucky who’s getting ready in his dressing room.

Tonight’s a big night for him, appearing on Late Tonight with Alexander Pierce, his first late night talk show interview to promote his recently released movie, and though the occasion is a significant one, Bucky looks as laid back as if it's just another day.

Bucky’s manager, Maria, is on what Bucky calls one of her rampages, listing off a million and one last minute reminders about what to endorse in the interview and the specific phrasing the producer wants him to use when introducing the movie.

You know it by heart as you were the one practising with him in the car on the way to the studio. You knew Bucky was better at memorising lines than he had let on, he was a professional actor after all, but it made your stomach tingle with butterflies to think he was purposely messing up the lines to get you to laugh and playfully reprimand him.

As Maria continues her one sided conversation, Bucky looks over her shoulder at you and makes a silly face, poking out his tongue, making you chuckle. He’s such an idiot sometimes, but he never fails to make you smile, even during a time where he should arguably be tense and not paying any mind to relaxing your nerves.

“As always I’ve given them a list of topics which are off limits but if he asks you anything you don’t want to answer...” Maria continues, you’re unsure if she’s immune to Bucky’s goofiness and is ignoring him, or if she’s too preoccupied to even notice.

“I know the drill Maria. Don’t you trust me?”

Maria gives Bucky a look, and even though she has her back to you, you know her well enough to sense the stern glare she’s throwing at him. Though, she’s never been intimidating enough to scare Bucky who’s still cheekily grinning like a ten year old thinking they’ve gotten away with a prank.

“You’re a mischief maker, so no I don't, not when it comes to live interviews.” Her phone starts ringing, saving Bucky from the rest of her spiel. “And fix your goddamn tie before you go on, you look like a troublesome schoolboy!” She calls back into the dressing room as she excuses herself to take the call.

“C’mere.” You step closer to Bucky and pull him the rest of the way towards you by tugging on the end of his tie. When he’s this close the scent of his deep, smokey cologne seems to overpower all your other senses and makes it hard to focus. “I swear I’ve shown you how to do this a thousand times.”

“Maybe I just like when you pull me close and do it for me.” Your cheeks heat like the sun and you shyly break eye contact to look at the floor, a feeling that’s all too familiar when you’re around Bucky, but is still a reaction you haven’t mastered in concealing from him. You suspect he does it on purpose.

You’re saved from having to form a sentence in your flustered state by someone shouting “Barnes, two minutes!” from the hall.

“That’s my cue. See you in a bit.” You can sense the smile in his voice, even when you’re bashfully staring at the ground.

You turn and watch him stride out of the room, your arms finding their way around your middle, hugging yourself as if Bucky’s departure results in you losing a part of yourself you’re desperately trying to hold onto.

Before he can disappear into the corridor, Bucky looks back at you, an instinctive smile tugging at the corners of his mouth when he finds you already looking at him. He shoots you a wink before making his way towards the stage.

You turn the television in the dressing room on to watch the interview, but you can hear the clapping and cheering of the audience resounding through the entire studio as Bucky’s introduced.

He aces the first part of the interview, introducing the film word for word from the script provided by the movie producers, and describing the action packed teaser scene shown for the first time on the show. You breathe a sigh of relief as they cut to the advertisements, knowing everything so far gone to plan and Bucky only has to get through a couple more minutes before he’ll rejoin you in his dressing room.

When the show comes back from the ad break, Bucky and Alex are laughing about something he must have said before the cameras were rolling. He looks happy, relaxed, that infectious smile of his plastered from ear to ear.

“So, we all want to know, have you got anyone special in your life? Is the devilishly handsome, notorious ladies man Bucky Barnes single?” Alexander asks eagerly and the crowd buzzes in anticipation waiting for his response.

Your stomach churns with a new wave of nerves - you know for a fact that this is on the list of no go topics, yet the host has no qualms in asking it.

Bucky doesn’t let the concern for the hosts' blatant disregard of his boundaries translate to his features, but you know him well enough to tell that the forced smile, small chuckle he lets slip out and slight change in his posture means he’s extremely uncomfortable with the probing question.

“I like to keep my personal life private. I already share so much of my life with my fans, but there are certain things I want to keep just for myself.” Bucky answers firmly, maintaining the strict boundary whilst also remaining polite.

There’s a moment of respite from your nerves, believing Bucky’s answer to be sufficient to shut down whatever Pierce is attempting to gain from the unsolicited question, but his next words bring the anxiety back with full vigour.

“I think that’s code for: yes, he’s in a relationship.” Pierce addresses the crowd, who starts ‘awwing’ in response. “Want to let us know who the lucky lady is?”

“No, that’s not what I-” Bucky tries to insist, but Pierce rudely interrupts to ask the next question. You can see Bucky’s jaw clench, even through the small screen you're currently watching from. Though he’s simply a room away, it feels like an entire galaxy in distance when he’s in front of cameras and you’re unable to do anything to subside his annoyance which is quickly turning into rage.

“The other burning question our fans had for you was the origin of your prosthetic arm - you’ve never explained how you lost your limb and of course we’re all intrigued by the mystery. I think now is the perfect opportunity to set the record straight.” Pierce looks at Bucky expectantly as if he had simply asked what day of the week it was.

If there is one hard no Bucky would never answer publically it was the story surrounding how he lost his arm.

You can see the anger bubbling in his chest, but most of all the pain, the grievous misery he’s trying so hard to disguise in his eyes. He desperately doesn’t want to break down in front of the entire world.

“That’s not a question I’m willing to answer.” Bucky replies in a faint, cracking voice. Standing up, to the gasps and murmurs of the audience, Bucky takes off his microphone pack, leaving it on the host's desk, and walks off the stage without another word.

You hear Pierce claim “I guess that’s just Bucky Barnes living up to his roguish ways” with a laugh before shutting off the tv, scrambling to gather your things and go find where Bucky headed off to when the door swings open.

Bucky stands tall and broad in the doorway, but you’ve never seen him look so small.

As he closes the door behind him you hear a sniffle and your instincts immediately kick in - he’s barely turned around to face you again before you’ve pulled him into a bone crunching hug. Your heart breaks sharply in your chest as you hear the wrenching sob he finally lets out.

Tears sting behind your eyes as you feel Bucky’s chest heave with his weeping, but you do your best to pull yourself together. You have to be the strong one here, Bucky’s the one in unimaginable pain.

The door bursts open but Bucky doesn’t let go of you to look at who it is. Maria stands there with a combination of fury and concern mixed in her eyes, as well as sympathy as she observes Bucky’s large frame crying into your shoulder. She silently raises her eyebrows as if to ask if you think he’ll be okay.

“I’ll take care of him, you go berate them for what they did.” You suggest, and even though it’s unlike Maria to do anything without disagreeing and recommending her own approach first, she nods and backs out of the dressing room.

You stand there, softly rubbing Bucky’s back and whispering sweet nothings into his ear, as he cries into your shoulder. Your heart, which Bucky already owns completely, shatters alongside his.

“How could he?” Bucky asks with an invigorated sob. You wish you could alleviate all his pain, even by taking it on yourself, just so he wouldn’t have to bear the burden. You squeeze him tighter in attempts to convey the sentiment.

However, you’re unsure how to answer his question because you yourself don’t understand how someone could be so cold-hearted to shamelessly mortify Bucky with the most traumatic event of his life in front of the entire world, especially after specifically prohibiting the topic.

“I dunno Buck, but he’ll never get the opportunity again, you hear me? You’ll never have to be in the same room as that shithead ever again.” You hope your words bring Bucky some comfort, but as this wound is so raw, the ache so fresh, you’re not sure there are any combination of words that can stop his pain.

You stay with him as long as he needs you to, slowly rubbing circles over his back, until eventually his sobs subside and his breathing slows to normal.

“C’mon, let me drive you home.”

“Home sounds good.” Bucky comments, but by the way he’s nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck and how he’s holding you tight against him, it doesn’t seem like he’s in a rush to get there.

After a few extra moments where you cherish simply holding each other without Bucky’s movements as he wept, you pull back, taking an additional second to admire just how blue his eyes are, even if they are tinted slightly red from crying, and how they look at you with a fondness that makes your knees weak, you whisper “let’s get outta here”.

The drive to Bucky’s house isn’t too long, especially this late at night. You attempt to prevent Bucky from reading any headlines about the situation, but with the exception of tossing his phone out the window of the moving car, there’s not much you can do.

“I swear it’s all everyone sees, what Maria loves to push for publicity - the supposed playboy with a mysterious past because he won’t talk about how he lost his fucking arm, I hate it.” His voice is full of exasperation and it makes you want to pull him back into another hug.

“It’s not what everyone sees, Buck.”

“Really, who doesn’t?” Me, you want to declare, but you question the implications of saying it aloud and the word dies in the back of your throat. You’re his assistant, just his assistant, and it’s inappropriate and unprofessional for you to infer otherwise.

“The people who genuinely care about you and know the real you - your Ma, Becks.” Is what you say instead. Your eyes are focussed on the dimly lit road ahead of you so you miss the downcast look Bucky throws your way, as if he was hoping you’d have answered his question differently.

“Yeah, I guess.” Is all he mumbles before sitting in quiet contemplation for the rest of the short drive to his house.

The silence gives your mind time to regret what you didn’t say, and wish for that time back again. Will there ever be a perfect time to tell him how you feel? How he makes your cheeks ache with how much he gets you to smile in his presence; how your eyes are always searching for him in a crowded room, and that your stomach somersaults when out of everyone, you’re the person he makes eye contact with before smiling; how no matter what time, day or night, you’d drop everything and anything if he needed you.

As if sensing your mental suffering, Bucky places his hand atop yours on the gear stick, still not saying a word, but the action itself calms the storm of anxiety building in your chest.

You pull up in his driveway and turn off the car, unsure if you should get out and help him inside, or if he just wants his space. You give him time to make up his mind, but your doubt is answered almost as soon as the rumbling of the engine ceases.

“Can you stay with me tonight? I don’t wanna be alone right now.” You’re sure you’ll never be able to say no to Bucky Barnes, but when his eyes look as fragile as a bubble floating in the wind, ready to pop at any given second, all you want is to pull him close and keep him safe forever.

Behind that fragility is uncertainty, unsure if you���ll agree to stay or not, and even though you weren’t sure it was possible, your heart cracks a little more after the events of the night knowing that he doubts whether you’d do absolutely anything for him.

“Whatever you need, Buck.”

“I just want you.”

“You have me. You’ll always have me.” And you mean that, with your entire being.

You get out of the car and snake your arm around his back, he does the same to you. You walk arm in arm through his front door, treasuring the warmth of his closeness and forcing the romantic implications to the back of your mind.

Those can be discussed tomorrow. Right now, he just needs you.

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[treatbuckywkisses]

EEEEEE EOSNSGDODNKSOSNGS !!!!!

i have the absolute honor of reading this again and wow dude it's just as incredible the second time <3

You wanted to be annoyed - Wanda has spent all week convincing you to come to this frat party because you had been cramped up in your room stressing over finals - but she looked so happy you couldn’t fault her for wanting to get out of your apartment for a night. Plus, you really did need a break, the stress was starting to get to you. i am in love with Wanda <3

THE PART ABOUT HIM WRAPPING HIS HAND AROUND HER WRIST I AM SO FERAL PLEASE THATS SO SMGDISNSHSMNSNS WOW

“I didn’t either,” you laughed nervously. For some reason you could not gain your composure around this man. It was easier in the lab where you had one thing to talk about. Even when your conversations diverged to more personal topics, it could always be brought back to chemistry when you felt like you were about to make a fool of yourself. But there was no chemistry now, at least not in the practical sense. The explosion in your stomach when his large frame wrapped you in a hug had to be some kind of chemical reaction, you were sure. literally shut up !!!!! to hug stevie🥺🥺 and all of this chemistry talk is so cute😭😭

“Sure.” Steve turned to follow Sam who had begun to make his way out of the kitchen, and looked back at you expectantly. “You coming?” yes 🏃‍♀️ baby i will follow you everywhere .

i can't tell if im wanda or if tiff is wanda– anyways doesn't matter because someone is getting kissed on the mouth.

Steve, however, was not having any of that, and let you have his spot. He settled onto the floor with his back pressed against your legs and you had to take a moment to calm the erratic beating of your heart. You were thankful for the drinks coursing through your system, otherwise you may have bolted for the door. Instead, you boldly ran a hand through his hair like you wanted to so many times. When your sober brain finally caught up to your drunk actions, you nearly snatched your hand back, but you realized he was leaning into you more, so you stayed where you were. LITERALLY KICKING MY LEGS SCREAMINH INTO MY PILLOW THIS IS SO SGSOSMSH UGH ALL OF IT<3 from him sitting on the floor in front of her and leaning into her playing with his hair🥺😭 they are so dumb

“What?” she said, feigning innocence. “Professor Levinson is fine and you know it.” yes, i do. please give me some of That.

At a loss for words, you simply nodded your head and suddenly his lips were encompassing yours, his hands roaming your body. You melted into him, right there in the middle of the hallway where anyone could see you. YAGADOSNSVSINAGAYBSMDNDKBS IM UNWELL BABE he is so big please i am vibrating

His usual sweet demeanor was replaced with something different - confident and a little cocky - as he hovered over you. SCREAMING ONSGSKSG PLEASE GIVE IT TO ME <3

You remembered a drinking game, Steve getting upset about something and you following him from the room, and then suddenly you were naked in his bed. There was a lot of disconnect, nothing quite making sense in the middle, and you quickly scrambled from his bed, trying to get out and figure out what happened before he woke up. oh here's the angst™️ 🥲 i am sorry but the falling out of the bed—JAIL I AM SO EMBARRASSED GOD I WANT TO DIE

As much as you wanted a recount of what happened, your pride won out, and you couldn’t stand another moment in this room, knowing you were likely just another notch on his frat boy belt. nooooooooooo this hurt both times </3 just so you know

You wiped at the fresh tears threatening to well over your lash line, and your best friend finally came back with a steaming mug of coffee, just how you liked it. !!!!!

“What happened?” she asked, petting over your hair like she knew you loved. Wanda was so good at taking care of you; she had a natural instinct for knowing exactly what you needed, almost like she could read your mind. wanda is the mom friend <3 and i see u w that reference u cheeky bitch🤨 also i still can't choose which of us this is maybe its both idk I'd like to think you'd take care of me </3

“You can sit. If you want,” you said, and he nodded before setting your stuff down and settling down next to you. He was close enough that your thighs could brush together if you moved even a hair, and it awakened some hope that you thought died when you left his bedroom that morning. YAY THEY ARE BACK TOGETHER EVERYONE SAY YAY THANK YOU TIFF <3

A laugh escaped you; you couldn’t believe what a ridiculous pair you two made. me reading this <3 (affectionate)

Your cheeks heated at the implication, but you leaned forward, breathing him in. When your nose bumped against his, your breath hitched. And the moment your lips met, it felt like the first time all over again. THIS IS EVERYTHING TO ME OMG I LOVE LOVE LOVE IT !!!!!! STOP ITS SO CUTE EVERYTHING ABOUT IT <3

i LOVE frat steve with everything in me 😤

where can i get one, thanks.

let it happen

summary: when you run into your adorable lab partner at a frat party, the night doesn't end like you could ever expect

pairing: frat!steve x f!reader

word count: 3k

warnings: explicit language, mild smut (MINORS DNI), drinking, drunk sex, charming af steve, a smidge of angst, cheesy confessions, wanda ia a good bro, and so is sam

a/n: this took me a lot longer than i thought but i think it ended up okay! thank you @sweetascanbee for requesting this, i hope it was everything you wanted <3

main masterlist ─ i no longer have a taglist, but you can follow @theafterglowlibrary and turn on post notifications to get fic updates!

C’mon, it won’t be that bad, she had said. Of course it wasn’t that bad for her, she had Vision’s tongue down her throat practically the second she walked through the door. Wanda better be glad you loved her so much.

You had gotten lucky with your randomized roommate freshman year. Moving to a city where you knew no one was not the best move as far as your social life was concerned, but you and Wanda had clicked instantly and you had been pretty much attached at the hip ever since. Except, now she had started dating someone and more and more of her time was spent at his frat house.

The very frat house where you now stood with your back to the wall, watching Wanda and Vis dance while you sipped on your third drink of the night. You were starting to feel the effects of the alcohol, but without anything else to do, idly drinking was your best option.

You wanted to be annoyed - Wanda has spent all week convincing you to come to this frat party because you had been cramped up in your room stressing over finals - but she looked so happy you couldn’t fault her for wanting to get out of your apartment for a night. Plus, you really did need a break, the stress was starting to get to you.

Stepping into the kitchen, you nearly spilled the rest of your cup when you saw who was standing in front of the fridge.

Steve Rogers - your chemistry lab partner who you had been pining over all semester. He was a gentleman through and through, which endeared you to him immediately and caused your small crush to snowball into a full blown panic to Wanda for a week straight when he saved you from scorching yourself on a Bunsen burner. The feeling of his massive hand wrapped around your wrist was ingrained in your brain forever.

He was sweet and charming and definitely not the type of guy you pictured ever being in a frat. You were about to high tail it out of the kitchen when he closed the refrigerator door and his eyes immediately landed on you.

“Y/N! Hey!” His smile was so wide, you could tell he was genuinely happy to see you. It made your heart constrict and you didn’t know if you hated it or not. “I didn’t know you would be here.”

“I didn’t either,” you laughed nervously. For some reason you could not gain your composure around this man. It was easier in the lab where you had one thing to talk about. Even when your conversations diverged to more personal topics, it could always be brought back to chemistry when you felt like you were about to make a fool of yourself. But there was no chemistry now, at least not in the practical sense. The explosion in your stomach when his large frame wrapped you in a hug had to be some kind of chemical reaction, you were sure.

“My roommate convinced me,” you continued. “I didn’t even know you were in a frat.”

“Oh yeah, my best friends kind of roped me into it our first year, and I guess I liked it enough to stick around.” That same moment, a tall man with bright eyes and a gapped smile came up on his right side, throwing an arm over his shoulder. “Speaking of, Y/N, this is Sam. The running partner I told you about.”

You laughed at that, while Sam playfully glared. “Hey, it’s not my fault you’re built like a superhuman or some shit. I can keep up with anyone else.”

“Anyways,” Sam said, obviously getting to the reason he came to find Steve in the first place. “We were about to play a drinking game, if you want to join.”

“Sure.” Steve turned to follow Sam who had begun to make his way out of the kitchen, and looked back at you expectantly. “You coming?”

You nodded, maybe a little too eagerly, and quickly filled up your cup from the punch bowl on the counter before shuffling through the throng of people in the living room to where Steve and Sam had disappeared up a flight of stairs.

When you stepped off the landing, you were met with a much smaller group of people than were downstairs, including Wanda who was perched on Vis’s lap. She jumped up at the sight of you, practically throwing herself at you, and you could smell the alcohol on her breath.

“Y/N! I’ve missed you!” Her eyes were a bit glassy, and you laughed as she smacked a kiss right on your lips before making her way back to Vision. “Come sit over here.”

She waved you over, but her and Vision were crammed on a loveseat with Steve, and there was no space for you to sit. Surveying the room, you realized there wasn’t anywhere else for you on any of the other couches either, and your best bet was a spot in the floor.

Steve, however, was not having any of that, and let you have his spot. He settled onto the floor with his back pressed against your legs and you had to take a moment to calm the erratic beating of your heart. You were thankful for the drinks coursing through your system, otherwise you may have bolted for the door. Instead, you boldly ran a hand through his hair like you wanted to so many times. When your sober brain finally caught up to your drunk actions, you nearly snatched your hand back, but you realized he was leaning into you more, so you stayed where you were.

“Sammy, what are we playing?” someone asked, and Sam stood up, dramatically turning to make sure everyone was looking at him.

“This is why he’s the president,” Steve muttered low enough for just you to hear it. “Always has to be the center of attention.”

You giggled at that, while Sam announced that you would be playing Never Have I Ever and explained the rules - whoever’s turn it was would say something they had never done before and whoever had done that thing would take a drink. 

“I’ll start,” Steve piped up. “Never have I ever tried to make wings out of cardboard and broken my leg falling off a roof.”

Everyone else laughed while Sam booed at that, but took a drink anyway. The game went in a circle with varying degrees of crudeness - anything from never have I ever kissed my best friend to never have I ever hooked up with a professor which you gasped at when Wanda slyly took a sip. 

“What?” she said, feigning innocence. “Professor Levinson is fine and you know it.”

Finally, Sam’s turn came around and you could tell by the shit eating grin on his face that he was gearing up to get back at Steve for singling him out.

“Never have I ever had a massive crush on my lab partner.”

You nearly choked, and with a glance down at Steve you could see every inch of visible skin spread with a fiery blush. Then, to your complete and utter surprise, he finished the last of his drink and threw the cup at Sam before getting up from the floor and quickly walking out of the room.

Wanda smacked your arm as you watched him leave, and basically shoved you to follow after him.

He was pacing the long hallway outside of the room you had previously been in, his hair pointed in a hundred different directions because he had obviously been running hands through it. 

When he turned and saw you, you didn’t even get a moment to speak before he was crowding you against the wall, his hands a bruising grip on your waist.

His warm breath fanned over your face and your heart was pounding so loud that you could barely hear yourself whisper, “What are you doing?”

“Same thing you are, I hope.”

At a loss for words, you simply nodded your head and suddenly his lips were encompassing yours, his hands roaming your body. You melted into him, right there in the middle of the hallway where anyone could see you.

You started to protest when he pulled away, but he laced his fingers with yours and tugged you down another hall, pushing you into what you assumed was his bedroom. 

His lips were back on yours the second the lock clicked, and before you knew it, clothes were shed and his body rested, warm and heavy, on top of you. He kissed a line down your jaw, across your collarbones, stopping to graze his teeth over one of your nipples, which caused your hips to buck up against his.

It was then you could feel just how big he was, and you audibly gasped.

His usual sweet demeanor was replaced with something different - confident and a little cocky - as he hovered over you.

“Y’okay, baby?” You couldn’t answer, a moan catching in your throat as his fingers glided through your folds, spreading the mess you had already made.

“Want you, Steve. Please.” Your vision went white as his fingers were replaced by the thick head of his cock, nudging you open inch by inch. When he was fully seated inside you, you arched your bed off the back only for him to press a hand to your chest, keeping you flat on the bed.

Between the fuzziness of the alcohol and the euphoria he was making you feel, time passed by in a blur of pleasure, until his erratic thrusts became still against you. You vaguely registered him pulling away, hearing a whine that had to come from you as the heat of his body left you. 

The last thing you remembered was a cool cloth between your legs and you were asleep before you could feel the pair of strong arms encircle your waist.

-

​​

The next morning brought a hangover and an unfamiliar bed.

The initial panic you felt was dispelled when you saw Steve’s sleeping face, only for it to come back full force when you realized it was Steve laying beside you. You wracked your brain, trying to piece together what had happened the night before.

You remembered a drinking game, Steve getting upset about something and you following him from the room, and then suddenly you were naked in his bed. There was a lot of disconnect, nothing quite making sense in the middle, and you quickly scrambled from his bed, trying to get out and figure out what happened before he woke up.

Unfortunately, your legs were tangled in his sheets and you ended up crashing to the floor, your shoulder throbbing to match your headache.

The sound of your body smacking the hardwood must have woken Steve up, because when you finally stood, all your clothes in your line of sight grasped in your hands, he was sitting up in bed looking at you.

You felt suddenly, embarrassingly naked, even with the memories from last night flashing in your mind. You just wished you could remember how it happened, but the only solid memories were those of his hands roaming your body, and unfortunately those weren’t answering any of your questions. 

After you had turned away from him and put your clothes back on - sans underwear, which you were sure he would find in the depths of his room at some point - you finally forced yourself towards the door.

As much as you wanted a recount of what happened, your pride won out, and you couldn’t stand another moment in this room, knowing you were likely just another notch on his frat boy belt.

Your mind screamed at you to stop and think for just a minute. This was Steve you were talking about - sweet, careful Steve, who followed you around the lab like a lost puppy and brought you coffee after particularly rough lectures, even when it made him late. This was Steve and yet your panicking brain couldn’t decipher the look on his face. You were so sure that it would lead to inevitable heartbreak that at the moment he opened his mouth, you bolted from the room without a glance back.

You heard him yell after you, then a thud that was probably him getting caught in his own sheets and crashing to the floor much like you had. You could also feel the eyes of the handful of frat members that watched you dart through the living room and out the front door.

Thankfully, yours and Wanda’s apartment was only a couple of blocks from the neighborhood where the row of fraternity houses were, so within ten minutes you were trudging up the steps and to your own front door.

Where you promptly realized you didn’t have your keys. Or your phone.

After banging on the door for a constant minute, Wanda finally swung it open, wearing nothing but a t-shirt that was not her own and looking very annoyed. Though her expression softened when she took in your puffy eyes, and you realized that you had been crying.

She wrapped an arm around you, guiding you towards your couch and tucking a throw blanket around you before she disappeared into her room. You heard low murmuring and a moment later, Vision emerged, giving you a quick wave before leaving.

You wiped at the fresh tears threatening to well over your lash line, and your best friend finally came back with a steaming mug of coffee, just how you liked it.

“What happened?” she asked, petting over your hair like she knew you loved. Wanda was so good at taking care of you; she had a natural instinct for knowing exactly what you needed, almost like she could read your mind.

You spilled the entire story to her, setting your cup on the table and curling up with your head in her lap. She listened to you recount the bits you remembered, then let you cry it out when you were done.

“Oh honey,” she whispered. “You don’t even remember the most important part?”

“What’s the most important part?”

She told you about the stretch of time you previously had no recollection of, though it was starting to all come together as she spoke. Sam’s obvious jab at Steve, the way he had drained his drink at the indirect mention of you, the longing glances all night you had failed to see, but Wanda caught every one.

“I’m such an idiot,” you wailed, burying your face in your hands as you sat up. You were mortified - here you had been convincing yourself that Steve had simply taken you to bed out of convenience, when you had it all wrong. And you had just left him without any explanation yourself.

“Only a little,” she teased, and you wanted a whole to open up and swallow you right then. You were going to have to drop out of your chemistry lab, and retake it next semester. Then you would have to reroute your walk to campus to ensure you never passed frat row. This was the end of your life as you knew it.

You were just about to tell Wanda all of this when a knock sounded at the door.

Almost like you knew who was on the other side, you stayed hunkered on the couch while Wanda got up to answer it, and not even a minute late Steve fucking Rogers stood in front of you, with your phone and keys clutched in his hand, fidgeting as if he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“You can sit. If you want,” you said, and he nodded before setting your stuff down and settling down next to you. He was close enough that your thighs could brush together if you moved even a hair, and it awakened some hope that you thought died when you left his bedroom that morning.

Wanda had wisely abandoned you, and the silence stretched until you both broke it with apologies tumbling over each other. 

“What are you sorry for?” you asked, clearly confused since you were the one that was a total moron.

“I just,” he stopped, running his hand down his face - in either exasperation or embarrassment - before he continued. “You were drunk, and I took advantage of that. I feel like an asshole and I know I don’t even deserve your forgiveness after that.”

A laugh escaped you; you couldn’t believe what a ridiculous pair you two made.

“Well I felt like an asshole for disappearing on you. And for assuming you just hooked up with me because I was there and not because you liked me.”

His cheeks flamed at your words and he started something along the lines of I would never before you cut him off.

“I know. Now, at least. Wanda filled in the things I couldn’t quite remember, and I feel awful.” You took a deep breath, contemplating your next words. “Speaking of, if you had stuck around long enough, you may have seen me take a drink, too. Though not one quite as dramatic as yours.”

Though his eyes widened in shock, a grin to match split across his face.

“Really?”

You nodded, moving on the couch so you were facing him, your knees brushing against his when he moved too.

“Can we agree that we’re both a little stupid? And forget last night?”

“Well,” he responded, cupping your face in his hands and running his thumbs along your cheekbones. “There are some things from last night that I will never be able to forget. But I do think a redo is in order.”

Your cheeks heated at the implication, but you leaned forward, breathing him in. When your nose bumped against his, your breath hitched. And the moment your lips met, it felt like the first time all over again.

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