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sapphireginger · 1 year ago

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Summary:

Stiles was not a fan of water and hated to swim but his son Sam was like a fish. So, Stiles braved his fear to take his son to the public pool. That was where he met Peter but not in the way one would want to have met a potential partner. Peter’s response however, surprised Stiles and led to something great.

AO3 Link

Stiles has never liked swimming nor has he ever been fond of the water. Not since he was four and his mother tried to drown him in the bathtub. It didn’t help that he got bullied and dunked repeatedly, making him terrified of swimming lessons. He ended up teaching himself because the other kids just kept pushing him under.

So, Stiles taught himself how to swim and he now only took showers. Well, he mainly only took to showers now. Oh, he would take baths occasionally but it was pretty rare and he never swam. He had tried to work through it and he would only ever swim when he was completely alone. It was why he got a private membership at Luna Aquatic Center.

However as he stood outside the public pool with Samuel’s hand in his, he felt sick to his stomach. He idly traced the now bare ring finger of his left hand with his thumb. His wife—ex-wife—was the one who took Samuel, their little Sam, to the pool. Stiles never trusted her enough to tell her why he couldn’t, and the lack of trust really should’ve made finding her in bed with another man less surprising. The only reason Stiles remained as calm as he had upon discovering them was because his son was sleeping. His bitch of an ex slept with another man while their son was taking his afternoon nap.

Since Stiles owned the house, he kicked her out and unsurprisingly ended up with full custody of their son.

That was just before summer started. Stiles realized he probably could have asked for someone to help take his son to the pool but that felt like admitting weakness and it wasn’t something that he could afford to admit. He had already lost his wife. He didn’t want anyone to have any reason to think he was unable be a father to Sam.

“Daddy?”

Stiles looked at his son who held out the sunscreen. “Sorry, kiddo. Daddy was just thinking.” He took the bottle and squeezed it into his hand before covering his five-year-old’s skin with it.

Sam tilted his head. “It’s okay, Daddy. I was thinking too.”

“Oh? What were you thinking about?”

His son pointed. “The slide. I wanna go down but I’m still too little.”

Stiles glanced at the slide and chewed his lip, nerves churning in his gut. He knew Sam could go down if he had an adult waiting at the bottom. “Well, you could go down if I was waiting for you.”

Sam gasped and shook his head. “Daddy, no. You don’t like the water.”

Stiles set the bottle aside and smiled softly. “No but I love you and if you want to slide I’ll do it for you.”

“No. No thank you, Daddy.”

“You sure, kiddo?”

“I’m positive. Guess why.”

“Why?”

“Cause I love you, Daddy and I’m smart cause I know that sometimes growed ups are scared of things. I know you love me, Daddy and you don’t have to catch me from the slide for me to member that.”

Stiles felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes making them sting slightly. Fuck but he loves his son so much. “How’d I end up with such a wonderful boy like you with a big golden heart?”

Sam grinned revealing a gap where he lost a baby tooth and hugged his dad. “I take after you, Daddy. Gampa said so.”

Stiles hugged his son tightly, wiped his face, and cleared his throat. “Well, if you change your mind let me know. I’ll be here when you need more sunscreen in an hour. Okay?”

“Okay, Daddy. I love you.”

“I love you too, kiddo.”

Stiles watched as his son jumped in the shallow and splashed around. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight. He was so focused he didn’t hear a man speaking to him the first time but startled slightly when he spoke the second time.

“I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Stiles looked up and blinked at the gorgeous blue-eyed man staring at him. “S’okay. No harm done.”

“May I sit?”

Stiles nodded and gestured to the open chair.

The man took a seat and offered his hand. “I’m Peter.”

“Stiles.”

Peter shook his hand and smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Stiles. Do you have a little one here?”

Stiles nodded. “Yes. You?”

Peter smiled fondly and gestured to a boy and girl not far from where Sam was playing. “That’s my nephew Derek and my daughter Malia.”

Stiles looked and smiled before gesturing to his own child. “That’s my son, Sam.”

“I’m glad to see another father here.”

Stiles quirked a brow. “Oh?”

Peter nodded with a wry smile. “Mhm. Quite frankly it’s a nice change. The first week it was all women with their kids. Which, don’t get me wrong, all the power to them but I don’t know. It’s just nice seeing another dad who actually cares.”

“Hm. How do you know I care?”

“Anyone paying attention can tell you care.”

“Been watching me, huh?”

“Yes and without even realizing it your body is always facing where your son is.”

Stiles took stock of himself and realized that Peter was right. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, he’s my world. So, I’m in tune with him.”

“I’d expect nothing less from a father who cares.”

Peter quirked a brow, his smirk shifting to a soft smile as Malia came bounding over. “Papa?”

“Yes, dearest.”

“Um, I was wondering if I can go on the slide?”

“I don’t know. I think you’re too little dearest.”

Derek walked over and smiled, revealing two front teeth that reminded Stiles of an adorable bunny rabbit. “I can take her if that’s okay, Uncle Peter.”

Peter tilted his head and nodded. “Be careful and keep an eye on her. Malia, hold his hand please.”

“Okay. Thank you, Papa!” She took Derek’s hand and eagerly made her way to get in line for the slide. Stiles chewed his lip, noticing his son watching the two older children get in line.

Peter noticed and glanced at Stiles, tilting his head. “Did Sam want to go on the slide?”

Stiles tensed and angled his body further away from Peter. “Yes, but we talked about it and it’s fine now.” Stiles wanted to go, wanted to flee. He wanted to get up and walk away because—

“If you’d like I’m sure Derek would be willing to—”

Stiles suddenly stood up and shook his head. “Look, I’m glad you have someone who can take your daughter down the slide, but I don’t have that and I don’t need it either. I’m perfectly capable of—o-of—” His breathing started to speed up and he started moving his thumb against the bare ring finger of his left hand, spots starting to appear in his vision.

“Daddy?” Peter saw Stiles’s son walking over and watched him gently take Stiles’s hand in his own. “Daddy, can you see five fings?”

“Pool. Ch-Chair. Towel. Ball. Sunscreen.”

“Thank you, Daddy. Smell three fings?”

“Chlorine. Sunscreen. Flowers.”

Stiles slowly lowered himself to the chair and Sam climbed into his lap. “Three fings to hear, Daddy.”

“Laughing. Splashing. Breathing.”

He wrapped his arms around his son and shuddered, pressing a kiss to the top of the boy’s head. “Thank you, kiddo.”

Sam looked at Peter with a small smile. “Welcome, Daddy. I’m gonna go play now, okay?”

Stiles cleared his throat and nodded. “Of course. I’ll be all right.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” Sam kissed Stiles’s cheek and then jumped back into the pool. Stiles took a deep breath and Peter watched him, feeling protective but he said nothing, simply watching over the man silently.

After a few minutes had passed and Stiles seemed to calm down, he turned to face Peter. “I owe you an apology. You were being very kind and I was very rude. I'm sorry.”

Peter gave him a small and understanding smile. “I accept, but I do think perhaps we simply had a misunderstanding. All is forgiven.”

With a flush of embarrassment to his cheeks, Stiles glanced away from Peter’s intense gaze. It felt like the man saw way more than Stiles wanted him to. “That’s not an issue I experience all the time just um…” he trailed off.

“You don’t have to explain. I’m glad your son was able to help you.”

“He shouldn’t have to. He’s a kid.”

Peter nodded. “He is but he’s also your kid.”

“Yeah. He’s a really good kid.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did he know what to do?”

Stiles cleared his throat and turned more towards Peter. “When Sam was two we were at the park and he got bit by a dog. He doesn’t really remember it but he gets panic attacks sometimes. Once we explained it to him, he grasped it pretty well for a four year old. Last year, he had a big one and I helped him through it. When he calmed down, he asked me why I was asking him all those questions.” Stiles chuckled wetly. “I told him why and now he’s always ready to ask me if I get panicked like him.”

Peter smiled. “As much as I don’t wish that on anyone, I’m glad you have him and that he has you.”

“You don’t think I’m a bad father?”

“No. On the contrary, I think you’re what a father should strive to be.”

Stiles blushed and his stomach flipped. This guy was smooth as melted chocolate. After inhaling sharply and clearing his throat, Stiles sent Peter a coy but soft smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re most welcome.”

Stiles gestured towards the pool. “If um…” he trailed off. “When your nephew comes back if the offer is still…”

Peter grinned. “I’m sure that Derek would be happy to.”

Stiles’s shoulders lost their tension and he smiled gratefully. “Thank you. So, how horrible of a father am I that my son has to help me out of a panic attack?” He knew Peter had already assured him he wasn’t, and Stiles wasn’t fishing for more compliments but he didn’t understand how Peter drew the conclusion he had from one example alone

Peter firmly shook his head. “You’re not a horrible father at all. I might not know you well but I have eyes. I saw the way you watched over him and the way he looks at you is like you’re his hero which isn’t surprising in the least. Him helping you with a panic attack just goes to show how much your son loves you and he also knows how to help others who may experience that. That’s all because he’s learned from you.”

Stiles smiled and blushed slightly, his heart fluttering at the compliment.

Peter nodded and his stomach swooped at the blinding grin on Stiles’s face when he watched his son go down the slide. The hopeful look on the boy’s face when Derek and Peter had offered was priceless. Peter and Stiles talked while their kiddos played and found themselves discussing everything under the sun. They meshed well and had zero clashes in personality. In a way, it felt like fate but now what?

As they got ready to go Stiles spoke up. “Peter?”

“Hm?”

“I was wondering if perhaps you’d consider dinner? With me?”

Peter turned to face Stiles and saw how nervous he was but was also impressed that Stiles had still asked despite his nerves. He smiled softly. “I would love to have dinner with you.” He handed Stiles his phone and they exchanged numbers.

Stiles smiled, his heart pounding so loud in his chest that he was sure Peter could hear it. “Great! So, I’ll call you or I’ll text you and we can set something up?”

Peter brushed his knuckles subtly against Stiles arm and nodded. “I look forward to it.”

#teen wolf #stiles stilinski #peter hale #fluff #steter #derek hale #malia tate #samuel stilinski (oc)#panic attacks #ptsd #angst #good peter hale #single parent stiles stilinski #single parent peter hale #young malia tate #malia tate is a hale #young derek hale #adult stiles stilinski

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kirby-toons · 6 months ago

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commissions r open ^o^

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alexsnerdycorner · 10 months ago

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LFN FANFIC

NEW chapter of my LFN Fanfic will be out tomorrow on AO3. It will have brief mentions of SA in the first part (Sasha's chapter). If you want to skip her part and just read Michael's, I won't be offended.

#television #fanfic #eventual smut #lfn #michael samuelle #michael samuelle x oc #michael samuelle x reader #nikita #nikita smut #la femme nikita #seymour birkhoff #walter #operations #madeline #paul wolf

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acknowledge-reigns · 1 month ago

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Animals | Jacob Fatu x Black!fem OC (SMUT) 18+!!!

Kinktober Day #8: Breeding & Marking

"Baby, I'm preying on you tonight.

Hunt you down eat you alive

Just like animals.

Animals, Like animals-mals..." 🎶

Description: Jacob celebrates his tag title win with his wife

Warnings: Breeding, marking, rough sex, possessiveness (on a healthy level?), somewhat primal, dirty talk, degradation, vaginal sex.

Face claim: Saweetie

MDNI!! 18+ BELOW THE CUT

My masterlist can be found here and my kinktober schedule can be found here.

As always my fics are based in kayfabe, not about real people.

tag list - @mysticreigns2 @queeny23 @jeyusos-girl @notfancyrebelpaper @xbriexx @skyesthebomb @mzv11 @paigereeder @glitterywitchstarlight @v4mp-reads @hunnidmilly

Jacob sat in the bloodline locker room, anxiously awaiting the arrival of his wife, Arielle. He had just won his first championship in WWE and was eager to celebrate with her. She had flown in just for his championship match.

As he paced back and forth, the door swung open and Arielle walked in, a smile on her face. "Congrats, babe," she said, walking up to him and wrapping her arms around his waist. "I'm so proud of you."

Jacob and Arielle had been together for a little over five years, initially she was just his hairstylist. Nights and nights of sitting up just the two of them laughing and bonding while she did his retwist brought on feelings neither of them could ignore.

the amount of times she'd pop his hand with her comb and scold him for his inability to stay still made her feel like she was turning into her grandmama. No one knew how to work her last nerve like Jacob Fatu.

And coincidentally, no one had ever given her butterflies like Jacob Fatu. His laugh was contagious. His genuine personality. He'd swept her off her feet. The way his goofy ass had insisted on telling people that in this story the little mermaid falls for the big bad wolf, not the prince. This of course being a play on her name being Arielle and his gimmick being the Samoan werewolf.

Jacob spent the last 5+ years grinding and putting in blood, sweat and tears on the Indies to support her and their growing family, they had two children, Kirsten (4) and Samuel (2) whom Arielle had sent off with her parents for the weekend so that she and Jacob could have their moment to celebrate. The struggle was over.

Jacob pulled her close, breathing in her scent. "Thank you, baby," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "I couldn't have done it without you."

Arielle looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "So, what are we going to do to celebrate?" she asked.

Jacob grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. "I have something in mind," he said, his voice low and seductive. "But I think we should go back to the hotel first."

Arielle raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Lead the way," she said, a playful smile on her lips.

Once they arrived at the hotel, Jacob quickly pulled Arielle into the room and closed the door behind them. He pinned her against the wall, his body pressing against hers.

"I've been thinking about this all day," he growled.

Jacob's hands roamed over Arielle's body, his touch possessive and hungry. He nipped at her earlobe, his breath hot against her skin. "You're mine, and I'm going to make sure everyone knows it," he whispered, his voice low and husky.

Arielle moaned as Jacob's lips moved down to her collarbone. "I'm all yours, Jacob," she said, her voice breathless. "I've always been yours."

Jacob pulled back slightly, his eyes burning with desire. "Good," he said, his hands sliding down to her hips. "... 'Cause I'm bout to mark you as mine tonight."

He picked her up and carried her over to the bed, laying her down gently before crawling on top of her.

Jacob hovered over Arielle, his eyes roaming over her body. He could feel the heat building between them, the primal urge to claim her as his own growing stronger with every passing second.

He leaned down and captured her lips in a fierce kiss, his tongue demanding entrance. Arielle moaned into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

Jacob broke the kiss and began trailing kisses down her neck, nipping and sucking at her skin. "I'm going to leave marks all over your body," he growled. "So that everyone knows you belong to me."

Arielle gasped as Jacob's teeth grazed her skin, the sharp sting sending a thrill through her body. "Yes," she moaned, arching her back. "Mark me, Jacob. I want everyone to know who I belong to..."

Jacob growled low in his throat, his hands roaming over her body possessively. He nipped and sucked at her skin, leaving a trail of purple-ish red marks in his wake.

He moved down to her breasts, taking one of her nipples into his mouth and biting down gently. Arielle cried out, her fingers tangling in his hair as he worked his way down her body.

Jacob positioned himself between Arielle's legs, his eyes locked on hers. "Ready for me to breed this lil pussy again, baby? " he said, his voice low and seductive.

He thrust into her hard, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth motion. Arielle gasped, her nails digging into his back as she adjusted to his size.

Jacob began to move, his thrusts rough and possessive. He pounded into her relentlessly, his eyes burning with desire. "Mine," he growled, his hands gripping her hips tightly. "Mine to fuck. Mine to mark. Mine to breed."

Arielle's moans filled the room, her body arching up to meet Jacob's every thrust. She could feel his primal desire, his need to claim her as his own, and it only served to turn her on even more.

"Harder," she gasped, her nails digging deeper into his back.

Jacob grunted, his pace quickening as he gave her exactly what she wanted. He drove into her with brutal force, his signature crazy eyes flashing with dominance.

"You like that, don't you?" he growled. "You like it when when I breed you like a lil bitch in heat.... Gonna knock you up again. Gotta grow the bloodline, babygirl."

Arielle's body tensed, her muscles clenching around Jacob's cock as he continued to pound into her. "Please," she gasped, her voice desperate. "Please, breed me, Jacob. I need it."

Jacob's thrusts became even more frantic, his movements becoming erratic as he felt his own release approaching.

"I'm going to come," Jacob growled, his body tensing. "I'm going to fill you up with my cum and breed you so good."

Arielle cried out, her body convulsing as she reached her own climax. "Yes!" she screamed, her back arching off the bed. "Yes, Jacob, breed me! Give me your cum!"

Jacob let out a guttural cry as he finally reached his peak, his hips jerking as he emptied himself inside her. He collapsed on top of her, his body slick with sweat as he panted for breath.

Jacob lay on top of Arielle, his body spent but satisfied. He nuzzled her neck, breathing in her scent as he tried to catch his breath.

"You did so well, baby," he murmured, his voice rough with exhaustion. Jacob slowly pulled out of Arielle, wincing slightly at the loss of contact. He looked down at her, a possessive gleam in his eyes.

"Let me clean you up," he said, his voice low and gentle. He reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a towel, then began to wipe her down gently, making sure to be extra careful with her sensitive areas.

Once he was finished cleaning her up, Jacob tossed the towel aside and lay down beside her, pulling her into his arms. He stroked her hair gently, his touch soothing and comforting.

"You did so well," he repeated, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You were such a good girl for your alpha." he stated, their honorific being 'Alpha' of course another play on the whole werewolf thing. As an avid romance reader, Arielle loved every bit of it.

Arielle snuggled into Jacob's chest, feeling safe and content in his arms. "I love you," she murmured, her voice soft and sleepy.

Jacob tightened his arms around her, holding her close. "I love you too, baby," he said, his voice filled with warmth. "You're mine forever, and I'll always take care of you."

#jacob fatu #Jacob Fatu smut #Jacob Fatu x black oc #the samoan werewolf #Spotify #bloodline fanfiction

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emiplayzmc · 5 months ago

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Alright, fellas, what should we call this? Addison Crossing? Cyber Crossing?

Either way, my Deltarune Addisons as Animal Crossing villagers!! Also special announcement at the end of the images :DD

(We're gonna ignore that personality types are gendered in proper AC alright guys shh it's fine)

Bailey & Tourmaline. A peppy squirrel and a smug ostrich, both with the fashion hobby!

AKA, Banner and Target!

Cassidy & Samuel. A jock and a sisterly - or a brotherly, in this case! - both deer! Cassidy has either the music or fitness hobby, and Samuel has the education hobby.

AKA, Broadcast and Sample!

And now... the one you've all been dying to see...

Sawyer G. Sawyer!! A smug / jock (can't decide which) rabbit villager! Probably either education or play as hobbies!

Also known as... Spamton G. Spamton!

RAHHHH I had so much fun making these!! Addispam and Big Shot Spamton came out a little janky but it's FINEEE... Kinda like to think that maybe Addispam / Addi-Sawyer was an apprentice to Pete in the AC universe!

And now that that's done...

✨️✨️ I'm opening requests to draw people's Addisons as Animal Crossing villagers!! ✨️✨️

You can send in OC's, you can send in your own versions of the main Addis that we see in game, Addisonas, the sky's the limit! I had a lot of fun drawing AC villagers!

My only requests / rules are:

A) that I'm able to get a description / image of your Addison and their personality, clothing they'd wear, profession, music taste, etc. If you want to, send in a request for what animal you'd want me to draw them as, as well! (For now I'm only doing animals that can be easily put onto an existing character model in AC, like a fox on a Wolf model or a buffalo on a Bull model)

B) That you only send in one or two characters at a time, please! Still new to doing requests, lol

C) Send in requests via the askbox! ^-^

That's all! Anyways, hope y'all enjoy the Addison Crossing characters!!

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aurorialwolf · 3 months ago

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Ok I’m feeling better (got burnt out) so now I’m gonna continue my posts about next gen redacted ocs!! I made a custom tag for these posts, so you can click that to see the rest of them :D (it’s tagged on this post)

This time: David’s son, Dante!

- His full name is Dante Gabriel Shaw

- His nickname is probably smth like Danny, so Davey and Danny lol

- He looks a lot like Gabe, his eyes being closer in shade to Gabe’s than David’s, and his facial structure & hair being very similar as well. This makes David both happy and a little sad, which Dante doesn’t understand until he’s a little older and David explains everything about Gabe to him.

- David brings him and Angel to visit Gabe’s grave regularly, and they leave dahlia flowers and honeysuckles (which i stole from other ppls flower hcs sry fhksdhjs)

- He’s besties with Ashlyn (Asher’s daughter) because of course

- He has a sort of inner circle who are all his friends in the pack, so that includes Samuel Jr., Ashlyn, and Milo’s daughter

- He’s always acted like a mini alpha, protecting his friends like David does, he started mimicking David when he was 2, attempting to do speeches to the rest of the pack toddlers

- He shifted for the first time when he was 14, a week before the winter solstice, and while it was painful, he managed pretty okay. His shifted form is very similar to his dad’s (large black wolf in my hc), but with a white swirl pattern on his right flank.

- He is the most responsible in his friend group, making sure they’re all eating, they’re on time, etc. would absolutely be the guy who has all the papers and passports when they go on an international trip.

- He may act a lot like his dad, having a gruff exterior, but it’s mostly a cover, and he can be a little goofball sometimes, like his other parent (Angel)

- He loves playing minecraft, started when he was 5, and co-ops with Angel often to make cool builds

Ok now for official alpha / security company stuff that he’d do!!

- He’s David’s only kid (in this version of things) so he’s naturally expected to become Alpha

- So, he often shadows his dad to important events, as well as security gigs

- One of the major things is he accompanies his dad to Solaire-hosted events, and while his dad greets William and shakes hands with him, Dante greets Emilie (William’s daughter), and shakes hands with her.

- She enjoys messing with him, and has held him in a couple second trance to see how he reacts (like I said in her post, she’s not great with mortals), which he eventually, after a couple meetings, can reliably break out of.

- Usually at these events, he stands around with his dad mostly separated from the vampires, interacting only with those who approach them, because David is worried about him being vulnerable to attacks or trances

- Luckily for him, Samuel Jr. (Sam’s son) is a regular attendee at these events, as William invites him, Vivienne (Vincent’s daughter), and their parents. Of course, Samuel is very protective of his friends, so whenever Dante has been at risk, he’s protected him, albeit maybe too violently, but it gets his point across.

- Now I feel like it’s a good time to mention that Samuel jr and Dante are boyfriends / eventual mates!! So it adds an extra layer considering Samuel has a rightful claim to him (the magic bite thingy), mostly for the purpose of being allowed by vampire law to protect him somewhat violently 👍 (Samuel also visits Gabe’s grave independently to leave flowers, because he’s paranoid about getting permission to date and eventually propose to Dante cuz blah blah tradition even though Gabe wouldn’t care if he were alive)

- He also shadows his dad on security gigs, learning all the best ways to keep large groups safe and orderly in case of an emergency. He also gets properly trained in gun use, just in case, and does pretty alright (they train at a typical gun range after he gets the proper licenses)

- Dante eventually heads his own event security gig, and manages pretty well. He’s doing it with his group of friends, so they goof off a bit over radio, which he scolds them for, though lightheartedly

- He does experience some rough gigs, not ever quite inversion level but there was a time when a clan of vampires descended on a large event being held in a stadium that had similar levels of danger, with luckily less losses

- One day, when Dante is ~25, David gets pretty sick, though is not in any danger, simply is somewhat immobilized and can’t perform his usual duties. Asher takes over, as a beta typically does, but starts trying to convince Dante to take over as alpha, which has been a previous conversation before, especially between Dante and David, but Asher is now making it a bit more urgent, and Dante is resistant to the idea.

- Dante says something along the lines of David not being dead, just sick, so he doesn’t need to take over yet, since he’s scared of taking over so soon. Asher flinches at that, and things become awkward. He eventually apologizes, but Asher insists it’s okay.

- Dante takes some convincing, but eventually decides to step up and take over, after David promises to support him in learning his duties.

- He picks Ashlyn to be his beta, and she does a good job! His takeover of the pack goes pretty well, mostly because everyone was expecting it anyways. David recovers fully, and helps him keep everything orderly, and keeps being in charge of the security company for a few more years before signing that over to him as well.

Taglist: @vegafan69 @darlin-collins @kxemii @professionallyyappin @sereh624

#redacted audio #redacted david #arias redactedverse kid hcs

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spider-jaysart · 2 years ago

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HERE IT IS!

A drawing of the fanmade Superfamily webcomic series I'm planning to make soon!

(Click image for better quality)

(Traditional version below)

Title of the series is:

Superman: Super stories of the Kent family

Starring the main characters:

Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Kid!Jonathan Samuel Kent, Conner Kent, Chris Kent, Kara Danvers, and Krypto!

Supporting characters in the cast will be:

Ma Kent, Pa Kent, Mon El, Jimmy Olsen, Steel, Jake Grayson, Damian Wayne, Kathy Branden, Jay Nakaruma, Emily Elizabeth Alyla (a kid civillian DC oc of @quartzgallery 's that goes to Jon and Chris' school and is a friend of Jon's), Tim Drake, Cassie Sandsmark, and Bart Allen (feel free to let me know if there's another well known supporting character that I maybe forgot to add by accident)

I hope it looks good :D

Tagging:

@quartzgallery @paladin-of-nerd-fandom65 @theredheaded-stuff @camo-wolf @cats-and-katanas @nobodycallsmerae

Also tagging those who commented on the last post:

@janestvalentine @march-lion-98

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phoenix--flying · 1 year ago

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last part

ahem. more twitter ✨️ except I'm on my phone so I'm limited w the amount of photos I can use💀

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amethystunarmed · 3 months ago

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Take Your Post With Pride

Word Count: 462 AO3 Written for @pulpmusicalsfortnight2024 Day 6: Confession. Once again, thank you to my phenomenal beta and the event organizer, @snarky-wallflower! I would also like to thank @sparrowfox-writes for the use of her Ellen Austin OC, Vincent Jordan! (Cosmo Rhodes is mine),

When Morgan joins their nightly card game, he appears troubled. His brows are furrowed and he fiddles with the scarf around his neck.

Vincent pulls out the empty chair beside him and pats the seat. "Come sit, friend! Tell us what has you so deep in thought!"

"Aye, it's a rare and dangerous occurrence," Amos adds, "We ought to know what to brace for."

The others laugh, but Morgan doesn't rise to the bait, merely taps the cards Cosmo dealt him on the table.

"As you all well know," Morgan begins, in the same teasing lilt he uses during his performances, "I am a rampant homosexual and blatant enemy of delicate sensibilities and public decency everywhere-"

Cosmo wolf whistles and the rest of his friends cheer. Morgan holds out his hands, calling for silence. “Please, hold your applause.” He almost manages to keep the smirk off his face. “As I said, this is common knowledge. So tell me why I keep thinking about Rose Stratford–” He doesn't even get to finish the sentence, cut off by the clamor of his crew all talking over him.

“She managed to turn your head?”

“It must be the end of days!”

“What is the world coming to!”

“You weren't swayed by John?” Elijah manages to ask over the shouting, “Or Samuel? He's...” A blush dusts his cheeks. “Quite easy on the eyes.” Morgan hadn't known about that. He fully intends to interrogate Elijah later, but right now, Morgan has his own crisis to focus on.

“And believe me, I have greatly appreciated the view,” he says, with a rakish smirk that has gotten him into quite a few men's beds. Here, it merely earns him scoffs and eye rolls. “But something about Rose...”

“It was the printing press plate, wasn't it?” Cosmo says knowingly. It is the voice of a man who noticed the definition in her biceps when she hoisted that plate in the air above her head, showing off her favorite weapon to the entire crew.

“I bet she could kill me with that thing,” Morgan says dreamily, to raucous laughter.

“Is violence a draw for you?” Vincent teases. “You do seem to have quite a penchant for getting into fights.”

Amos huffs. “And dragging us along to save your sorry ass!”

“But you look so good doing it!” Morgan exclaims, “I nearly swooned when you tackled that guy off of me!” He presses an exaggerated smooch to Amos's cheek. “My hero!”

Morgan gets shoved off his chair entirely for that one. But the freeing laughter and the bright red expression on Amos's face make it worth it.

It is the last card game they ever play together.

During the nightmare to come, Morgan sometimes wishes he could live in that memory forever.

#pulp musicals #morgan reese #the ghosts of antikythera #Pulp Musicals Fortnight Day 6: Confession #Pulp Musicals Fortnight 2024 #humor #Amos Pulp Musicals #Elijah Pulp Musicals #Ellen Austin OCs #Ellen Austin Pulp Musicals #my writing #my fanfic

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deva-arts · 1 month ago

Note

Now do the spirit animals for all your other ocs

Monica: Siberian Tiger

Seraphina: Sumatran Tiger

Vincent- Honey Badger

Amon- Kodiak Bear

Nathaniel- Australian Giant Cuttlefish

Sonia- Red Fox

Eric- Spotted Hyena

Magnus: Thoroughbred Horse

Strohl: Barbary Lion

Katya: Savannah Cat

Aura: Glass Octopus

Verra: Giant Panda

Han: Himalayan Cat

Titan- Hippopotamus

Karin- Spider tailed Horned Viper

Samuel- Red Wolf

This is all based off of their respective traits and behavior in reference to the animal, not so much power scale.

Very brief explanation under the cut!

Monica: She's huge. She's powerful. She's a force of nature! It makes sense that her spirit animal would be a tank like the siberian tiger. They're the largest tiger species and even freak out smaller tigers.

Seraphina: She learned from the best! While not as large or strong as her mother was, she is still a force to behold. Sera is incredibly fierce, determined, and brave, which fits the animal. I also find them to look a lot more whiskery and cute so...

Vincent: How do you survive in a world where everything is bigger, stronger, and lethal? be loud! be angry! be aggressive! DESTROY. If you scream it out enough, they'll believe you. Not even lions mess with a pissed Honey Badger. They are also immune to snake venom out of pure tolerance. Metal.

Amon: Large and fluffy but still incredibly deadly, Amon sticks to his guns and goes about his life... While taking no shit in the process. He's also the beefiest and has the best hair. Kodiak bears are the biggest species of brown bear!

Nathaniel: Never underestimate the Cuttlefish. It has so many cards up its tentacles! including camouflage, great intelligence, hypnotism, and also perception of different light wavelengths. They're kind of jacks of all trades. I also find their huge noggins funny. Lol, Nate's big head.

Sonia: She's a yapper, she's playful, and she's a bouncy, kind of flighty person overall. Sonia is also known for her very... Foxy personality. It makes sense that part of her persona uses a Vixen! I also think the red suits her hair.

Eric: He's also a yapper. He loves to laugh, even when it's not appropriate! Life needs more fun. Eric is social, dynamic, and works well in a team. Hyenas are also known to be pretty intelligent and affectionate... At least among themselves.

Magnus: He's the créme de la créme. Millions upon millions of dollars and a sacrifice made by the head of operations behind VENUS was poured into his making. He is no clone. Nay, he is a prince, and the world is his inheritance. Thoroughbreds are the most expensive, high-end breeds out there. One of them, Fusaichi Pegasus, was sold for $70 million.

Strohl: Barbary Lions were hunted to near extinction, and now exist today in private collections, often to royalty and their sanctuaries. They're a gorgeous breed, with thicker, beautiful manes and intense eyes. It's odd, to think something so powerful exists in captivity. It is safe, living a rich life... But it is still a slave.

Katya: Savannah cats are a breed between domestic cats and african Servals. While many consider them to be higher range pets with beautiful pelts and an exotic size, they're still just as wild and tempermental as their ancestry allows... Some people find this out a bit too late.

Aura: Glass Octopids are a rather mysterious lot. They pretty rare and hard to spot in the oceans they're from! It's to the point that they can be found anywhere in their subtropical habitats, with few known habits and behaviors. They're also bioluminescent <3

Verra: She might be able to call upon the beasts she finds in her dreams, but regular, human Verra is pretty soft hearted. She doesn't care for conflict and prefers to live a easier life without stress. Sera worries sometimes about her lack of self preservation, though...

Han: She's partially bred with chimeric DNA, sourced and spliced from cats and beastshifters. She's got a very feline temperament because of it. She is also quite fluffy! She rivals huskies in shed yields.

Titan: Extremely, extremely aggressive, territorial, and deadly. Hippos kill 500 people a year. Lions kill 22. A hippo can bite you in half just for being in the general proximity of their river. Not even a crocodile does that. Hippos are essentially muscle tanks of mass death and terror, and they can also run up to 28 mph. So.

Karin: This bird-eating snake lures them in using their peculiar tails. The tails crawl and move around like spiders do when dragged on rocks, and the snake knows exactly how to make it seem like a juicy, perfect treat for the birds. Once the bird flies close enough, the snake bites it with several shots of venom and enjoys its meal. A fitting animal for a recruiter.

Samuel: Wolves are strong alone and stronger together, and their ability to fight for a united cause reflects Samuel quite well. He is ambitious but also focused and dedicated to his mission, doing his best to make sure his team pulls through... Even when he lives in a world that is full of threats.

#devarambles #nathanieltag #vincenttag #soniasanderstag #seraphinatag #amontag #rickytag #doctorstrohltag #katyatag #samueltag #verratag #monica hayes herrera #karintag #i think that’s all the tags #no amon wouldnt have a reptile for a spirit animal #his personality is different he has a lot more warmth to his character #too hot blooded. lol.#ark_systema

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seenoversundown · 10 months ago

Text

Sparrow Of The Dawn : Chapter Five

Sam x Willa (Fem OC)

Warnings: Swearing, One mention of the word 'Daddy', mentions of boners? Mild accidental groping, light talk of spit kink if you squint, a lot of movie references, Jumpscare Warning: Jeremy Allen White, mentions of very minor injury, Girls Night (gender neutral term), guys being dudes, mentions of avoiding a car accident, fluff, and per usual Sam just being his usual self.

Word Count: 8k.

Author’s Note: Taco Bell IS on the boycott list and just included for entertainment purposes. Also, if you need help with figuring out which companies are on the boycott list you can download the “No Thanks” app to keep track!

Summary: Sam unfortunately finds himself in not so meet cute with Willa. Hopeful that he doesn't cross her path again; the world works in mysterious ways and not always in your favor.

That's Not My Name - The Ting Tings “Are you callin' me darlin', are you callin' me bird?”

‘If it weren’t for bad luck, we wouldn’t have any luck at all’ is a phrase my grandfather repeated growing up. I feel that a little more deeply these days, especially when it comes to my truck. As I sit here, willing her to turn over every time I twist the key, I lose a bit more hope. I have got to get her looked at. I pull my phone from my back pocket and text the group chat, praying that someone is awake this early.

Me: Is anyone awake that loves me enough to drive me into work. Edith wont start again ☹️

Tweedle Dee 🦐: It’s your lucky day.

It only takes about ten minutes before Josh pulls up in his white Jeep truck, and I’ve never been more thankful that we all live so close.

“You look awfully dapper for 7:30 in the morning,” I remark, eyebrow cocked.

“And you are just a pair of cargo shorts away from being Steve Irwin, but you don’t hear me questioning you.” He retorts. Touche. “I thought I was dropping you off at the newspaper office?”

“You are, but we’re going to Wolfe’s Neck to take some nature photos for the assignment we’re working on. I’m meeting her at the office first.” Josh and I haven’t spoken much in the last few days; he’s always busy lately, working at the bar or devoid of his phone for hours, so I fill him in on the project.

“An incredible idea, Sammy. All hers, I assume?” He chides.

“Not.. all hers. I helped.” I speak a bit more defensively than I mean to.

“Convincing.”

“I did! We’re even using a couple of my film cameras because I’m so nice.” I further defend my stance.

He pulls up to the curb, effectively cutting our conversation short, thankfully, and I exit his car.

“Sam!” He yells jovially, and I turn around, his window fully unrolled. “Have a good day, Sammy Boy! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” He twists the dial on his stereo volume. The soundtrack of my suffering plays to the tune of ‘Barbie Girl’ by Aqua. I wave him ‘goodbye’ with a simple middle finger as he drives off. As I make my way back to the front door, there she is.

Birdie.

She greets me with, “I bet he’s a nightmare in the morning.”

“You have no idea.” I reach for the door, opening it for us both and letting her walk in first because I am a gentleman; however, I am still a pain in the ass. “Is it not too early in the morning for my voice today?”

“It's always far too early to hear your voice, Samuel.” She presses the button on the elevator and twists her shoulders toward me.

“How are we supposed to work together if you refuse to talk to me, huh?”

“It’s not like taking pictures requires conversation.” The sound of the elevator dinging catches our attention, and we both enter. Birdie reaches to press the correct floor button.

“How about,” I start, facing her and smirking with a cocked eyebrow, “we stop for coffee and breakfast, my treat? Since now, I don’t have to break the news to you that you have to drive.”

“You.. have my attention.” The elevator arrives, and we exit right, down the hallway, through the glass door, and past the reception desk. Sharon greets us warmly with a wave; she’s no Daisy, but she is lovely. Once we reach the cubicles, we separate, unloading our belongings on our own desks. Birdie looks good today. Her earth-toned Patagonia pullover fits snuggly, along with the black leggings on her legs. The tail ends of her brown bob poking out the bottom of her tan Carhartt beanie.

“I see you’ve dressed for the occasion.”

“Oh, uh yeah. I couldn’t exactly wear my Steve Maddens in the forest.” She stares down at the white socks and brown hiking boots I know are on her feet. “Where are we going, by the way? You never told me, just said, ‘I have a place.’”

“Wolfe’s Neck State Park, you been before?”

“Surprisingly, no. It’s on my list though.”

“It doesn’t open until 9, so we have a little bit of time to kill before we have to leave; it’s only a half-hour drive. Maybe forty-five or fifty with breakfast.”

“Did you wanna hit up Dunkies for breakfast?” she asks.

“Please, god no. They can never get my food right. I swear they have a secret vendetta against vegetarians.”

“I didn’t know you were a vegetarian. Is it an animals with faces thing?”

“Nah, Daniel, bet me fifty bucks I couldn’t do it. I never turn down a bet.” I sit down on my desk and cross my arms. Looking at her over the divider.

“How’d that turn out for you?”

“A new diet and fifty bucks richer,” I snicker.

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The trail I lead her down is not a very long one. I can hear her small feet padding behind me, breaking branches and rustling leaves in quick steps. She takes two to match my every one. I figured one of the shorter trails would work better for getting in and out with enough time to head back and finish our project.

“Ooooh, it's giving Twilight,” she beams, eyes huge with excitement.

I turn to follow her gaze toward the large, moss-covered rock wall. A few fallen, slimmer trees lay around the bottom. She runs over toward it.

“This is the skin of a killer, Bella.” Reenacting a scene from the movie. A movie I’ve definitely never seen. “I don’t care. You won’t hurt me.” she quotes dramatically, switching from Edward to Bella. She matches Bella’s awkward movements perfectly. It’s hard not to laugh, her head bobbing, arms flailing, jumping back and forth between spots for each character. I haven’t seen this side of her yet, A fun side. Who knew Birdie had it in her?

“You know I’ve never seen Twilight before.” I lie as I slip one strap off my shoulder and pull my bag around to the front of my body. Unzipping the compartment that has her camera in it, I pull it out and give it a wiggle. She walks over to meet me.

“Never had a girlfriend in high school who forced you to watch it?” she smiles, jokingly as she takes the camera from my hand and slips the strap around her neck, checking over her settings.

“Nope.” popping the ‘p’, “Never really dated til I got to college.” I take out my own camera.

“Aw got no game huh?” She makes a mocking frown at me as we walk down the trail.

“Got no game, huh?” I mimic her. Way to go, Sammy. Wicked come back. That’ll teach her.

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We take our time, snapping photos as we go until we reach the water. It's beautiful here. Large formed rocks surround the lake that makes up an amazing scenic view. The sunshine only adds to the effect. It's breathtaking every time. I can’t believe she’s never been here before. We slowly walk up to the edge of the water. She finds little crevices that the water runs through. In her continued child-like wonder she can’t help but kneel down to run her fingers through it, picking up small rocks to inspect before dropping them back into the tiny flowing river. The sun’s rays bounce off the water, the reflection a bit blinding, but I’ll take it on a day like today. It sparkles off the waves created by the small gusts of wind, which keeps me comfortable, but I notice the little shivers that run through her shoulders. Despite the minimal clouds in the sky, the sun isn’t strong enough to truly warm you from within this time of year.

I watch as Birdie steps onto one of the taller rock formations. She brings the camera to her eye, the clicking sound pleasantly mixed with the sound of all the petite rivers running nearby. She drops her camera and tilts her face toward the sun, eyes closed, taking in the warmth from the sunshine above. She looks as peaceful as it feels out here. I snap a photo of her. She brings her arms out as if she's standing at the head of the Titanic; I snap another one. That is what Maine is about, the simplistic beauty of being with nature. Any time of year, any weather. Just enjoying the feeling of connecting to nature. Water, trees, rocks, sunshine. All of it. Always.

I’m so lost in thoughts of her and home I don’t notice her suddenly standing in front of me.

“Earth to Samuel.” She sing-songs, fingers waving in front of my face.

I shake my head, willing my brain to focus on the task at hand. “Yeah, what.”

“Can I put this in your bag?” She’s holding a rock. A damp, white-ish looking rock clutched between her delicate fingers.

“Uh, sure?” I’m very confused. I open a compartment, and as she places the rock inside, she shivers again. I guess it is chilly despite the day’s sunshine. It's still March after all, though I’m not a great gauge for temperature because I run warm.

“Are you cold, Birdie?” I question.

She scrunches her nose in response. I fight with the thought of how cute that is. “I’ll be fine,” she dismisses. “I’m always cold.”

“Here, take my scarf. I’m hot anyway.” Pulling my scarf from around my neck.

She immediately gives me a side-eye.

“It’s.. not gonna bite, Birdie?” I tease her with a little wave of the scarf.

“Not my name,” she scrunches her nose again, apprehensively reaching out to grab it. “Biting I'm not worried about. It being magically cursed into strangling me when I least suspect it, on the other hand.” She tosses her hands back and forth like an invisible set of scales. Her hands work intently as she folds the scarf in half and places it around her neck, taking the ends through the loop and pulling it tight.

“What am I? Harry Potter?” I scoff.

She lets out a cackle. “Not even remotely. More like Lucius Malfoy.” She raises an eyebrow at me.

“Wow, straight to Lucius. Not even Draco, huh? Yeah, I guess I am Daddy.” I stop in my tracks as I watch her pluck another rock from the tiny river leading out toward the water.

“Ew. God, no.” Her infectious laugh hits me right in the gut.

“See, Lucius was evil.” She stands, and her eyes give me a once over before placing the rock in my hand, presumably to be put in my bag with the other one. “Draco had a good heart even if he was a little chicken. Plus,” raising her pointer finger, “he was hot. And you are neither of those things.” She turns back to the small river of flowing water.

My mind flashes back to the other night at the bar, where she’s sitting with her friend. “No, you’re right, Wilson. Sam IS cute.” Replaying in my head.

“Oh, really?” my mischievous side coming out to play. I step toward her.

“Mhmm.”

“OH, REALLY??” I repeat louder, taking another step. She stands to face me.

“YES,” she says pointedly.

I smile wide, now looking down at her.

“That’s not what your friend said the other night.” I bite my lip, tilting my head to the side and running my hand along my jawline. I watch as her eyes follow my movement, a fire lighting behind them. I know I’ve gotten under her skin by calling her out.

She raises both of her eyebrows, this time taking a step toward me to fully bridge the gap between us. Nearly chest to chest, nose to nose, she says, “Wow, I’m actually shocked you were able to pull your head out of your ass long enough to hear someone speak besides yourself.”

I chuckle, running my tongue along my teeth. “I don’t hear you denying it. Go on, you can say it. You think I’m hot.”

“And why would I need to deny such a clearly false statement, Samuel?” Confusion etched across her face. “You know, when you come up for air, usually you can hear better. You should try it sometime.”

“So, that’s not what I heard, huh? ‘You’re right, he IS really cute.’ ? Your friend never said that?”

“No, you didn’t. Because no, they didn’t.” She huffs. I pick up on the use of ‘they.’

“Right, right.” I nod my head. “So, do they frequently lie to embarrass you?” a silent acknowledgment between us.

She pulls out her phone, tapping away.

“Whaaaat are ya doing?” I question her clear deflection.

“Just looking to see if there is a quick care clinic open on our way home because, obviously, you need to have your ears checked out,” She pockets her phone. “Can we continue, please?” A swift eye roll follows as she turns to walk back toward the little river.

“Wait, wait, wait,” a breathy chuckle falling from my lips. “If it's not you who thinks I’m cute. Then it must be your friend, right?” She opens her mouth to try to cut me off before I even get started, but, “So, can I have their number then?” slips out before she can manage. I relish in the fact that I know I’m bothering her.

“No, no. Absolutely not.”

“Wow, for being Birdie, you’re not much of a wing-woman, are you?”

“First off, they would hate you. Second off, what makes you think I’d ever be your wing-woman. And THIRD-OFF, that’s not my name.”

I feel a bit of satisfaction and a warm swell of my belly when her nose scrunches in distaste.

I wander off back toward the trail we came down, keeping my gaze pointed toward the opening in the trees. Trying to focus in between the little gaps for anything interesting or photo-worthy. The leaves are not quite growing yet, and the ground still wet with leftover melted snow. I can hear the squish of the damp soil with every step I take. The lead into spring is probably my favorite time of year. Most people enjoy the summer because the weather is nice and warm and the surrounding cities are alive with tourists and events. But those moments of fresh life leading into spring show you that despite the dark coldness of the winter, you can still grow and bloom into beautiful potential. The hope of it all, to come out the other end of the darkness to greet the sunshine, is why it's such a valued season to me.

Just then, Birdie comes padding over to me with two more rocks in her hands.

“Sam, I found more.” She calls on her way over. I, once again, pull my bag to the front, and she opens a pocket, attempting to deposit the rocks herself.

“No, not there, I have a lens in there.” I zip it back up and choose a different one. “Try this one.” As she’s trying to fit the larger of the two in there, something clicks inside my brain.

“You’re one of those girls, aren’t you?”

“One of what?” Her brows are knit in frustration when she realizes the rock is too big. She picks another, thankfully empty, pocket.

“One of those girls that sits around with her crystals and her tarot and her moon water.” I chide.

Her hands stop what they are doing and she slowly looks up at me, eyes narrowing. “How do you know about moon water?”

“It’s a long story.” I shake my head and sidestep the comment so I don’t have to talk about ‘she who shall not be named’. “You know my brother is into all that shit. He’s got crystals all over the place.”

“The brother that owns the bar or the one with the mustache?”

“Uhh.. both of my brothers have a mustache.”

“You sure about that.” She smirks. Oh, they’re both gunna just looove that. “Actually, why don’t you give him my number since we seem to actually have things in common.”

“No.” immediately denying her. “If you refuse to be my wing-woman. I refuse to be your wingman. No way.”

“Fine then, at least make yourself useful and find some space to fit this in your bag.” Flashing the rock, she couldn’t fit before.

“Seriously, how many more of these do you need, Birdie? My bag is getting heavy.”

“How about you hold this one.” She pulls a small crystal from her bra, and drops it into my open hand. “It’s good for grounding. Maybe it’ll help center you. Woo sah, Sam. Woo Sah.”

Very funny.

I offer to drive the way home and now I’m curled uncomfortably in the driver's seat of Birdie’s car. Partly to get warm again and partly because of the intense growling of my stomach.

“We should stop for lunch before we head into the office,” I suggest.

“Where?” She pulls out her phone, searching for options.

“Is there a Taco Bell nearby?”

“You can eat at Taco Bell? I wouldn’t think a Mexican food place would be vegetarian friendly.”

“Taco Bell is hardly Mexican, but you can sub almost anything out for beans. Plus, I’m craving a crunchwrap.”

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We pull up to the drive-through speaker, and I place my order. “I’ll have a cravings box with a black bean crunchwrap supreme, a spicy potato taco, and cheesy fiesta potatoes, and a Large Dr. Pepper, please.” Her eyes are boring holes into the side of my skull as I pull out my card to pay. I scrunch my face in question.

“Nothing.” is all she says.

She leans over the center console to place her order, elbows perched and ass off the seat. I know she’s trying to be able to project her voice from across the car, but she is so close. I shrink back into my seat to try and give her space, but I can't escape her sweet floral perfume. Oh, she smells so good. I close my eyes, reveling in the mixture of orange blossoms and vanilla as it clouds my brain.

“I’ll have two soft taco supremes and a medium Baja Blast, please.” She plops her ass back in her seat, “Ready?”

I open my eyes again. “Yep.”

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I hand the cashier my card and receive the receipt and we pull up to the second window. She is staring at me again with the most unpleasant face.

“Okay, what gives. Why are you looking at me like that?”

The worker opens the window and hands us our order. Birdie's own customer service voice shining through her ‘thank you so much!’ Unwrapping our straws and sticking them in our respective drinks while I slowly pull away from the building. I reach for my Dr. Pepper and take a large, satisfying gulp.

“How can you possibly drink that?”

“A Dr. Pepper?”

“Yes! It's like.. Against the law in at least 22 states to not order Baja Blast when you go to Taco Bell.” she quips.

“Oh, you’re not gunna like this.” I pause.

She stares intently.

I take a deep breath in and exhale slowly, “I.. don’t.. Like Baja Blast.”

She stares some more. This time, the brown of her eyes barely peeking through the thin space between her eyelids.

“Dr. Pepper just hits better.” I shrug.

“We- Are not friends.” Turning back to the food in her lap.

“Consider it one of my 19 crimes,” mumbling around a bite of my lunch.

“Every sip is a little act of warfare, Sam.” She argues a bit further down the road. “I cannot believe you would commit such.. Such TREASON in my own car.” Her hands wave theatrically in front of her.

“Oh, you’re a Queen now, are you?”

“It is my car, so if I say I’m the Queen of my car, then I’m the Queen of my car. And I rule that drinking Dr. Pepper is an act of treason.” She crosses her arms, chin raised high, a playful smirk sitting on her plush, chapstick-covered lips.

I laugh, a good, full-bellied laugh. She’s fun when she wants to be. When she’s not being so combative.

“I’m so sorry, Your Grace,” I respond and enthusiastically take a bite of my spicy potato taco. She rolls her eyes at me.

“How much food did you order?”

“What? I’m a growing boy!” I argue.

As soon as I take another bite, chipotle sauce comes out the bottom and lands right in my lap. “Oh shit!” I once again say around my food. She starts to rummage through the bag for some napkins. When she finds one, I reach my hand out to take it, but she bypasses me completely, leaning right over the center console with her head nearly in my lap, hands working to try and get the sauce out before it stains.

That’s how I ended up praying to the Gods above that I don’t accidentally pop a boner while she cleans up my crotch. What have I done to deserve this?

“It’s fine. It’s not on the seat. It’s just on your pants. Hold on.” I squirm under the pressure of her fingers as she tugs to flatten out the fabric of my khakis to make sure she gets it all.

“It's fine, Birdie. Birdie!” raising my voice to catch her attention, to no avail. “I can take care of it when we get back. Or we can stop off at my apartment, and I can change.” I plead, desperately wishing for this to be over.

“I almost got it. Stop moving!” I glance down as she slaps my thigh. Holy shit. She licks the napkin then and I swear I see Jesus in the middle of the freeway. I press the brakes to slow down to avoid a collision. Trying my best to focus on the road ahead, but instead, now all I can think about is her spit on my dick. Oh God. My eyes go wide as soon as the thought crosses my mind, and my dick definitely twitches.

Oh, don’t go there. Not now. Think Sam, Think. Grandma Althea. Her house is old and smells like moth balls. Her hands are always dry from all the fabric she touches because she’s always sewing something. She coughs really loud and wet because of the cigarettes she smokes. I breathe a heavy sigh of relief when Birdie sits up. She clears her throat, “I uh think it should be all set.”

We drive the rest of the way back to the office in silence. I really hope she didn’t notice. But then again, I do have terrible luck.

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When I walk into the dark room, Birdie is already in there; the red lights casting a glow on her that reminds me of the first time she walked into my brother’s bar. Though now she’s rifling through the lower shelves.

“Whatcha lookin’ for?”

“I uhh, I haven’t developed film since college. Tryna find some instructions.” Her ass in the air as she continues her search.

“I don’t have nine film cameras for nothing, Birdie. I know how to develop film I can help.”

She stands and faces me, the uncomfortable expression on her face taking on a completely different view under the light. I wish I knew her well enough to know why she’s so uncomfortable.

I get us set up with our film canisters and developing mixture while she grabs the rolls of film from my bag. We each carefully cut the film off the cassette. I try to focus on what I’m doing instead of how our fingers gently brush each other while loading the film onto the reel. I pour the developing mixture into each canister while she watches on.

“We have to shake them every, like thirty seconds for a few minutes, and then we can do the stop bath,” I instruct her, and she nods.

Her small, delicate hands hold the rather large container as she shakes it back and forth. “Like this?” She questions, her brow furrowed. And.. I am only a man. Staring too closely at the motion of her hands, I freeze. For christ’s sake Sam. Be normal for 5 seconds. As I clear my throat to answer, I drop my canister. In her attempt to help me we end up crashing our heads together.

“OW.” “Oh Fuck.” We mumble at the same time. I feel around for the edge of the counter and end up knocking the other film canisters into the sink.

“For fuck’s sake,” I whine. I reach to grab those, and Birdie bends down to grab the one I dropped. And, it is so dark in here she ends up ramming her head right into my junk.

“Fuck!” I yell. At the rate we’re both complaining, I’m sure they think we’re trying to fuck. If only I were that lucky. Instead, I now need to ice my goods.

I hold my breath, willing the pain to stop.

“Sorry.” her apology is small.

A strained “It’s fine” tumbles from my lips.

We continue awkwardly fumbling around each other, trying to make sure the rest of the containers stay properly agitated, and instead, she gets properly agitated. If this was a cartoon, I’m positive that steam would be coming out of her ears.

“It’s too small in here; you are far too large, and it's too dark.” She huffs.

“I don't know what to tell you, Birdie. It’s a darkroom, and I cannot get any smaller.”

“That’s not my fucking name.” Angrily, setting down the container with a loud thud.

We add the stop bath and then the fixer, making sure to keep a good distance from each other, and then finally rinse and soak the film.

When we hang the film up to dry, I realize I have about a foot on her.

“Need me to get you a stool, shortie? Or should you just hop on, and I could lift you up.” A cocky smirk spreads across my lips.

“Nah, you’re the man you could do the heavy lifting,” she makes air quotes around ‘heavy lifting’.

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Once they’re fully dry, I gather the film strips and bring them to the lightbox. Scooting our stools close and setting each strip up one by one to see the negatives of our photos. Shooting nature is one of my favorite things but Birdie really does have an incredible eye for it. Of course, I’d never tell her that because she would hold it over my head. Our styles are very different, which is clear to see lined up next to each other, but they still look amazing together.

“These.. Are really great, Birdie.” I smile down at her and bump her with my shoulder gently. Her face softens a bit and I can’t help but think how beautiful she looks. I am a man- I’m not blind.

“The hard part is choosing the best ones. It feels like choosing my favorite children.” Her infectious laugh plays through my ears, and I smile back.

We take some time discussing which ones have the best lighting or the best proportions. Which ones we think will make great features and finally settle on eight ‘prized children’ to print. The other eight photos selected for our presentation will be digitally edited and printed outside of the darkroom, making at least half of this project easy. At least the editing and printing we can do from the comfort of our homes in our PJs. Which is exactly what I will be doing after I see Daniel for dinner.

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We settle back in the dark room using the projectors to print our respective photos. I don’t know what’s in the air today because I keep messing up. Either exposing for too long or too short and I keep running back and forth between the developing tray and my projector to try to correct it. On one of my passes, I run smack into Birdie. In my effort to stop the collision, I put my one unoccupied hand out to cushion the momentum and ended up grabbing her boob instead. For fucks sake. How does this shit keep happening?

I pause, slowly backing away. She just heavily sighs.

“Well.” She brushes her hands off and adjusts her beanie. “That’s the most action I’ve had in a minute.”

Before I can stop myself, I blurt out, “Is that why you’re such a tight ass?”

“No, I have,” she emphasizes, “such a tight ass because I do squats.” And now I’m thinking about her in tight gym pants doing squats.

“Well, if you ever need help loosening up a bit, you know who to call.”

“Jeremy Allen White?”

“Who?” I match her confused expression.

“Oh, you know, he was in Shameless. The bear?” her brow further knits each second that passes. “He just had that big ad campaign for Calvin Klein?” Calvin Klein? As in.. models. Cool. First Edward, then Draco, now.. models.

“Yes, because I definitely seem like the kind of guy who keeps up with Calvin Klein campaigns.” Really trying to drive the point home with a snarky tone.

“Oh..” I try to read the expression on her face before she continues, “I just thought because of you.. You know, actually know how to dress yourself.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“You shouldn’t. Your competition is the genre of men who pick up a shirt off the floor and go, ‘yeah, this smells clean’.” She stands on her tiptoes as she hangs her last photo and then promptly exits the darkroom.

A few minutes later, she returns through the circular door. It always reminds me of something a magician would have on stage. A weird sort of contraption to ensure the light stays out and doesn’t ruin the developing process for those inside.

“Sam.” her voice is quiet again, just above a whisper. I look up at her and can barely make out her petite frame in the dark. She’s just standing, a strip of film pinched between her fingers, head hung low.

She continues just as quietly, “Did you.. Um. When did you take these?” The realization hits me. I forgot about the pictures of her.

“Oh. Uhh. You were just.. Ya know in your element. And I sorta thought. Well, this is a big part of what Maine is like. Ya know. Outside, nature. You just seemed.. Happy. Thought it should be captured..” I trail off. Oh God, she’s gonna think it's weird. It's not weird, though, right? No, Sam, it's fine.

The length of silence kills me. The longer she doesn’t talk the more I start to internally freak out. As if being a naturally warm-blooded person wasn’t bad enough, I feel myself start to sweat. I wipe my forehead of the perspiration gathering there and grab at my wrists for a hair tie, of which is conveniently missing at this moment. Please say something… please.

“This.. um.” she pauses, inhaling and exhaling a deep breath. “They’re lovely, Sammy. Thank you.”

Sammy.

“Yeah.. yeah. You’re welcome.” I shift my focus back to my photo.

“So, uh.. Anyways,” she says, calling my attention back to her. “Since we’re printing the photos here and we’re editing the digital ones at home, you can just email me the finished ones when you’re done, and we can talk about the bullet points we’ll go over for the presentation.” She turns on the projector light until she gets the desired contrast, and then turns it off and carries her photo to the developer bin. I grab my own photo and walk over to meet her, dropping it in the solution to join hers. She idly uses the tongs to move her photo around the bin to help the developing process. Just like shaking a Polaroid picture, it doesn’t really work; it only passes the time.

“That sounds good, Birdie.” I reach to grab the other set of tongs and end up blindly bumping her arm in the process, knocking hers to the ground. She bends down to retrieve them, and I set my sights on a different pair of tongs to my left. Two things happen at once. First, I bend slightly to reach the other pair. Second, she headbutts my ass. That’s two parts of me she has head-butted today.

“We’ve touched more today than I ever thought we would in this lifetime.” She groans.

“Think about us touching often, huh?” because I can’t help but try to get under her skin every chance I get.

“Why are you like this?” she complains. She tosses the tongs back on the counter and goes to fish the photo out with her fingers. I lunge to stop her, but I’m too slow.

Now, it’s definitely not life-threatening to handle photo-developing chemicals without gloves. But they are, at the end of the day, chemicals and can sting like a bitch if you have opened wounds. Given how clumsy she is, I anticipate –

“Ouch, FUCK!” she yells, cradling her hand. I grab her by the wrist and shimmy us over to the sink, where I turn the water on cold. When the temperature is cool enough, I pull her finger under the running water.

“That was stupid of you.” I gently scold her. There’s no weight behind my words, just concern.

“How stupid, Sam? I didn’t realize I had a cut. Is it bad? Do I need to see a doctor?” She rattles off.

“Hey, hey, hey.” I leave one hand on her wrist, keeping it in place under the faucet, the other one I place on her cheek. Settling in the crook of her neck beneath her ear. The palm of my hand burns against her cool skin; she really is always cold. Despite the darkness of the room I still pull her gaze to meet mine. “Calm down, okay? You’re fine, I promise. A little stupid, maybe. But you’re fine.” I rub my thumb along her cheekbone, hoping to soothe her worries. I can barely make out her eyelids as they flutter closed for a moment and then open again.

“You promise?” I can feel the anxiety radiating off her.

“I’d pinky promise if you wanted me to.” I joke, and she lets out a small giggle. Pride settles in my chest, knowing a crisis is averted.

“God, that was stupid.” she laughs again and rests her forehead against my chest.

“Lil bit.” I shake my head and slide my hand down to rub her back. Part of me doesn’t want to move from this spot, knowing she's comforted, but I ruin the moment anyway. I pull back from her, hand resting on her shoulder now.

“Lesson learned, huh?”

She zips the top portion of her Patagonia pullover a little higher when we make it outside. I pull out my phone to see who is available to be my chauffeur home.

“Did you need a ride home, Sam?” She asks, pulling her collar up to her ears. The ends of her hair start to stick out.

“I was just going to see which brother was a spare and could swing by.” I drop my eyes back to my phone.

“I can give you a ride home if you want? I know you’re not too far out of my way, I can just.. Drop you off?” placing her foot on the next step down and pointing toward the parking lot.

“You don’t have to do that. None of them do anything productive anyway.” I laugh.

“Do you have more than just the two?” I bite my lip and smile when her brow furrows in confusion.

“No, but you know Daniel? The bouncer? We went to grade school together so he’s been my best friend since we were like six. He's basically a brother at this point. Ya know, brotha from anotha motha.” Her gentle laugh bringing forth another swirl in my belly.

“Oh, I was about to say. I’m not sure the world could realistically handle any more of you Kiszkas.” She says when we finally reach the sidewalk.

“Yeah, they broke the mold with me. Realized I was peak Kiszka genes and said, ‘all done’.”

“Seriously though, I can give you a ride. It’s no big deal.”

I fall in step with her, “Why not? None of my degenerate brothers are answering me anyway.”

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The drive back to my apartment is quiet. Almost too quiet for us. The awkwardness of the day still lingering in the air. I clear my throat to cut the silence, but I can’t think of anything to say to fill it. I just fidget with my fingers instead.

“How are you getting to Boston tomorrow?”

“Uhm, well, the plan was to ride the train in like I did last time, but Edith almost made me miss it.”

“Edith. Right. Your truck.”

“She’s having trouble turning over.” I run a hand through my hair.

“Well, I don’t want to have to worry about you missing your train and messing up this presentation for us by not being there, so i'll pick you up at like 6 a.m. if that’s fine with you.”

“You don’t have to do that. I told you I live close to my brothers. I'm sure one of them can take me.”

“It’s really fine. I have to make the drive anyway and I really want this presentation to go off without a hitch. It would make me feel better if I knew for sure you’d be there.”

I don’t read into that sentiment. She just wants the project to be successful, and I know that. So I agree, much to my dismay. I hate feeling like a burden to people, and with Edith giving me trouble, I feel pretty much like a burden to everyone who has to deal with me.

When we reach my apartment, she pulls over to the sidewalk out front.

“Why don’t you put your number in my phone, and I’ll text you when I leave my apartment. I’m only like ten minutes away.” She pulls her phone out from the center console near her gear shift, and I put my contact info in. Entering my phone number and email under Sammy Kiszka with the camera emoji.

“I put my email in there so you can flag it, but shoot me a text with yours when you get home so I know where to send the digitals.” I place her phone back in her palm. “Thanks again for.. carting me around.” I let out an awkward laugh and scratch the back of my neck.

“No problem, see you in the morning,” she gives me a tight-lipped smile.

“Yeah, see you tomorrow.” I grab my camera bag and hop out of her car. Shutting the door with a small wave through the window.

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When I hear the signature knock, I know Daniel’s arrived. Two quick knocks, a pause, a single knock, another pause, and ending with two quick knocks. I don’t know when he developed that habit, but he only uses it on my door. Penelope lets out a loud boof of a bark and runs ahead of me, her shaggy hair swaying with her little jumps. Well, little for Pen. When I open the door, she’s already sniffing and pawing at his legs.

“I brought beer.” He says as he holds up the 12-pack of coronas, careful not to trip around her. “Hope you got limes.”

“It’s me. Of course, I do.” Gesturing to myself and stepping aside to let him in, “Plus, I have an extra large meat-lovers pizza on the way.” I resist the urge to make a joke about ‘meat-lovers and guys night.’ “So.. tell me what’s wrong.” I continue, following him into my kitchen. He's stacking the beers one by one inside the fridge to keep cold, Penelope impatiently waiting for her attention from her favorite uncle. Her words not mine. I can tell by the expression on his face he’s struggling with whatever is on his mind. He closes the refrigerator door and shrugs off his coat, setting it on a nearby chair.

“Hello, Penny girl. I wouldn’t forget about you, I promise.” She laps at his fingers as he playfully pets her face. Still reaching for her head as he stands, he takes a deep breath. “I, uhh, went on a date last night..”

“Still living up to your name, I see. How was it? Awful? Terrible? Did she have a big head or lipstick on her teeth?”

“Very funny.” He snarks back. “It was terrible, thank you very much.”

Eventually, I get the full story out of him. His date, named Allie, a very adorable waitress he met through a friend of a friend, was completely horrible (pleasant), didn’t let him pay (she wanted to split the bill because her drink was expensive and she felt bad), and.. the kicker? She opened the door for him (she got to the door first). We’re each two slices and a few beers deep, and I can’t figure out where the awful comes in.

“She sounded completely fine, Daniel. I don’t get it?” I lean back against the couch, Penny quietly snoring by my feet.

“She ordered a salad, Sam.” he looks at me expectantly as if that answers everything. “A SALAD!”

“Oh no. A salad. How completely terrible of her.” I roll my eyes.

“I.. want a girl who isn’t afraid of eating a burger.” he shrugs, drawing a sip of his corona and lime.

“Do you want me to be honest with you?” I pinch the bridge of my nose and close my eyes in frustration.

“Always.”

“Bro.. you have got to get over Melody.”

He stands, effectively scaring Pen awake, and I watch him pace back and forth in front of my TV. She pads over to him, nails clicking against the hardwood until she can get her paws on him.

“This has nothing to do with her.” He stops and reaches down to run his fingers through her fur for some comfort through this uncomfortable topic.

The subject of Melody has always been a touchy one. He dated her in high school, and we were all pretty good friends for most of our childhood. I really liked her for him, actually. Until she broke his heart when we all graduated and ran off to college, leaving him in the dust and I was the one who was left to clean up the mess. The mess being Daniel because he was.. A full blown mess. He would never admit that, though. But what can you expect when you get your heart broken for the first time? I kind of get it. He has always been and always will be my brother, and I’ll always be there for him. No matter what. Which naturally means I’ll always harbor a severe distaste for her, even if I know I don’t have to worry about seeing her ever again.

“This has everything to do with her. You haven’t been able to make it past the first day with a girl since you broke up. It’s been what? six years?” I shoot him a pointed glare. He stops pacing and crosses his arms, waiting for whatever else I have to say.

“Have you considered that trying to get to know someone while eating food is actually incredibly awkward? Or is this really just about the monstrous salad?”

“She also wanted to go for a walk after dinner.” He defends. The sigh I let out.. My God. “Why would I wanna go for a walk when I stand all day at work?”

He cannot be serious right now. The weakest arguments known to man.

“You’re an active guy, Daniel. Why wouldn’t you want to go for a walk? Doesn’t Linda always go on about your golf arms or whatever?”

“No, that’s completely different, and you know Linda is the love of my life.” he smiles wide, his tongue poking out just beyond his teeth.

“Right. So what other red flags did she have?” I dig a little more.

“Okay, well, she tried to kiss me?”

“GASP.” I feign shock. “She wanted to kiss you? How very dare she. Daniel, that’s absolutely insane. It’s not like you guys went out on a date or anything.”

“I don’t wanna talk about this anymore.” he plops himself back down on the couch beside me, his shadow following him until she perches her head on his knee. I swear, when he’s here, it's like I don’t exist. “Tell me about poking girl. How’s that going?” He lays his head back and pulls his trucker hat down over his eyes.

“Good. Project is good. I still can’t ever tell if she likes me or not. We bicker and banter all day long. It’s entertaining as hell for me. Then, there are some moments where she acts like a sweet, normal girl. But most of the time, it's just bickering.” I take a swig of my beer. “I gave her a nickname to get under her skin, and she makes this face every time I say it. It's very.. Samantha from Bewitched.” I swallow my laugh down with another sip.

“Whaddya call her?” he asks with a smirk, eyes poking out from underneath the brim.

“Birdie.”

“Birdie? Why on earth does that get under her skin?”

“Dunno.” I shrug. “But it does. And I take sick enjoyment out of irritating the fuck out of her.” I set my empty beer back down on my coffee table.

A maniacal laugh escapes him. Clutching stomach, he bends forward. I start to wonder if he got high before he came over because what the hell is so funny?

“Oh god.” He wipes a tear from his eye and rights himself on the couch. “So you think she’s cute, huh?”

“I mean.. I.. have eyes, yeah?” I answer with confusion heavily present in my tone. “But we don’t get along. As in cannot go five minutes without bickering, don’t get along.”

“You always did like em’ psychotic, Sam. None of us are stupid.” he chuckles.. to himself because I am not laughing.

“No, I don’t!”

“Right, and Chelsea was what? Totally normal? You didn’t listen to a single one of us on that one, and we all told you.” I forgot about her. The girl I dated right before ‘she who shall not be named.’ We saw each other for only a few months but what a whirlwind it was. We went to a concert an hour away, and she ran off with one of the roadies. A fricken roadie? Left me there to get home by myself, considering, yep, she drove. But again, she was hot, so what was I to do?

“Hey now! She wasn’t.. that bad.” I say innocently.

“Right, that’s what you always say. Sam – I never take advice from anyone – Kiszka.”

“Yeah, alright, keep laughing. As if I’d take advice from ‘One Date Daniel’.” I elbow him in my defense. “Besides, I’m not sure I have much to worry about. Once the project is over, I won’t have to see her again unless we actually do well.”

I get up and head to the kitchen to retrieve another beer from the fridge, and my own dog doesn’t even glance up at me. She just rests peacefully by Daniel’s side. I open the drawer to the left and pick up the bottle opener, and pop the top. I take a long drink before I reenter the living room.

“I uhh, actually the receptionist at the Boston Globe is really cute. Her name is Daisy. We hit it off a bit when I was there last.” I point to the flowers laid on the shelf. “I stopped by the farmer’s market after work and picked up some daisies. Thought I might ask her out tomorrow.”

“Daisies for Daisy. Real creative, Sam.”

“Hey!”

“How’s Birdie gonna feel about that?” he inquires. I pick up the flowers from where they rest and give them a light sniff.

“Oh, she’ll hate it. She already chirped me about hitting on Daisy last time we were there. Said something about ‘it's easier watching teenagers flirt.’ or whatever.” I set them back down and take up my spot on the couch.

“Yeah, you never did have any game.” He tips his corona back, finishing the remaining liquid and setting it on the coffee table.

“You say that like your game is any better.” I shove his shoulder.

“I may be ‘One Date Daniel,’ but at least I get dates.” he chides, linking his fingers together with a crack of his knuckles in front of him and placing them behind his head.

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Chapter Four

Chapter Six

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thesugarclubs-blog · 1 year ago

Text

Back in the Game - Bucky Barnes x OC

warnings: strangers to lovers, fluffy first date vibes

word count: 6.4k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1396767302-back-in-the-game-celeste

Masterlist

“When was the last time you saw her?” Sam asked as he poured a mug of coffee for himself. They were sitting in Bucky’s empty apartment. He had finally pulled the trigger and bought a bed, a few dishes, and food but that was enough.

It was starting to feel too comfortable.

“Last week,” Bucky said, flexing his metal fingers and rolling a cloth through them to polish the plates in a sad attempt to hide the blush on his cheeks as he thought about her long dark hair and pretty smile.

“You scrub those any harder and you’re going to corrode them,” Sam laughed. “Did you talk to her?” He asked.

“No,” Bucky grumbled. “She’s-”

“She’s what?”

“Out of my league.” He looked up finally and met Sam’s glare. “How do I flirt with a woman? The last time I did that was-”

“It’s kinda refreshing seeing the White Wolf sweat.” Sam sipped on his coffee and stared at Bucky.

“You’re not being helpful.”

“So she’s pretty?” He assumed, looking at Bucky over his mug.

“She’s beautiful,” I corrected him.

“Go to the bar, practice on some random women, and work that confidence back up man. The next time you see her at the grocery store you can put the moves on her,” he suggested.

Bucky fixed Sam with a blank, unimpressed look - as if it was just that easy - and then blinked slowly before he groaned and ran his warm hand down his face.

"I never used to be like this y'know?"

Sam chuckled and placed his coffee mug down, his voice soft as he gave Bucky's arm a comforting squeeze.

"Yeah, I heard the stories. You got this though, man. You're Bucky Barnes."

He said it like it means something and Bucky scrunched his, unconvinced. He hasn't felt like Bucky Barnes in decades.

Sam tilted his head.

"We could go out tonight."

"No," Bucky grumbled. "I'm busy."

He didn’t want to practice on some random woman in a bar. He wanted to get it right. With her. She was stunning, and Bucky remembered clumsily dropping the orange he was holding when he spotted her in the produce section. He swore there was a halo around her, and that could have been the bad fluorescent lighting, but even she looked good in it.

"Busy polishing your arm, or busy polishing something else?" Sam giggled from behind his mug.

"Samuel..." Bucky warned. “Don’t start with the jokes.”

“That’s my thing.”

“Get a new one.”

Sam raised his eyebrows and shrugged dramatically.

“Okay. Suit yourself. Stay at home and wallow.”

“I am not wallowing!” Bucky snapped. “I’m…”

He let out a sigh, swallowing the lump in his throat. There were very few people he could be vulnerable around, but Sam was one of them. When push came to shove, they counted on each other.

“I’m terrified.”

"Aw Bucky.." Sam started.

"I don't need your sympathy, Sam," Bucky cut him off.

"You weren't getting sympathy," Sam responded, looking him dead in the eyes. "What I was going to say, before you so rudely interrupted, was that it might be decades since you worked your magic but things haven't changed as much as you think. She's a woman, and you're all man."

“Would you…just…man, quit wigglin’ your eyebrows at me like that, jeez,” Bucky stammered, his face turning an even brighter shade of crimson.

“Look, even you must have noticed the way those recruits giggle and bat their eyes at you,” Sam pressed.

“That’s not the same thing,” Bucky muttered, his thoughts once again drifting to the way her eyes had brightened when she’d picked up the perfect head of broccoli.

"It is!" Sam exclaimed, eyebrows nearly hitting his hairline in disbelief. "You just don't wanna admit that even after everything, someone might actually want to make you happy. You could kill someone and that intern with the glasses would ask you to do it again!"

Bucky tossed the rag at Sam, who let out a yelp at the amount of force the fabric hit him with. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he took a deep breath. Hums, thumps, and the soft beat of Sam's heart echoed in Bucky's head as his best friend's words replayed over and over. Suddenly the silence was way too loud. With resignation, he met Sam's puppy eyed stare.

"You get one hour," he pointed at Sam, who punched the air gleefully. "And you're buyin'.

A groan left Bucky's throat in response, but Sam ignored it while he put the rag back into the kitchen, winked at Bucky, and left the apartment with another "One hour, loverboy!".

The moment the door closed behind him, Bucky took a deep breath. So deep that he could see his chest expand in the corner of his eyes. Every breath felt heavy but only a bare minimum of oxygen made it into his lungs. As if he was drowning, without even being in water.

He recognized the early signs of his anxiety, but tried to calm himself with massaging his flesh hand with the vibranium fingers, applying enough pressure on the trigger points next to his thumb.

It was only a boy's night out. She probably wasn't even there and he wouldn't use a different woman for a dry run. Nope, not going to happen.

With his head hanging low and his mind too busy to focus on anything else right now, he head into the bathroom to take a shower.

That evening, Bucky met Sam outside their regular haunt, a grin on his friend’s face as he opened the door.

“Let’s get this over with,” Bucky muttered, ducking inside.

“Alright hotshot, what’re you drinkin’?”

Sam bustled him towards the bar, hands on his shoulders and almost bouncing with giddiness.

“Old fashioned,” Bucky murmured to the bartender awaiting their orders.

“Make it two,” Sam added as Bucky turned his back to the bar, scoping out the crowded room.

He was starting to regret agreeing to this. The alcohol wouldn’t do anything to loosen him up and if Sam’s enthusiasm was anything to go by, it was sure to get real tiring, real quick.

Speaking of which, his partner clapped him on the shoulder and not so subtly pointed to a blonde down the bar.

“What about her? She’s hot… and definitely giving you the eye.”

“Yeah, but she’s not—“

Her.

Sam groaned and took a generous gulp of his drink, shaking his head.

“Will you relax, big boy? You’re not marrying her. This isn’t 1920 anymore.”

“I was three in 1920, you jackass,” Bucky snarled.

Sam rolled his eyes and Bucky shifted in his seat. He couldn’t do this, not now. He’d always longed to be the man he was before the train, before Zola, before the brainwashing, but he knew that man died in the snow that day in 1945. He’s never been the same since, even after therapy and pardons… something shifted. He felt alien; thrown into a brand new century that he wasn’t meant to exist in.

“Just… give it a shot. She’s gorgeous.”

Sam gave her a little wave and she giggled, hiding behind her hair as her long fingers wrapped around her glass. She was pretty, with golden hair that fell down her back in gentle curls.

“Sounds like you’re more interested in her than I am,” Bucky grumbled into his drink.

“Okay. Tactic change,” Sam replied. “200 bucks says you’re too big of a coward to hit on the next woman who walks in here.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. If there was one thing he didn’t lose, it was a bet. Especially not a bet to Sam Wilson.

“You’re on.”

Bucky's heart was in his mouth, as the minutes passed and the bar doors remained closed.

He picked up his glass again. He needed to relax, to tell himself it wasn't a life or death situation, or the end of the world. He took a sip and gulped the liquid down.

Moments passed before the door opened. He managed to take a breath in when he saw it was just a group of guys, hustling each other inside with good natured banter.

"You really are nervous," Sam started, as the door started to swing closed again.

As he took another swig, trying to summon 1942 Bucky, the door swung inwards again. As his eyes rose to look at the entrance, it took every bit of control he had to swallow that mouthful.

A woman walked through the door with bouncing brown waves, a delicate jaw. Bucky’s heart leapt in his chest.

Shit, it was…not her.

The face she revealed when she turned wasn’t the one that’d been haunting his thoughts for the past two months. That wasn’t to say she wasn’t beautiful though.

Catching his eye as she walked over to the bar, the woman smiled sweetly at him before leaning against the wooden bar top, trying to catch the attention of the bartender.

“Look man, she smiled at you. Go shoot your shot,” Sam hissed, nudging him towards the woman.

With a glare at his friend and a final swallow of his drink that he had to force past the knot of nerves in his throat, he squared his shoulders.

“Fine,” he gritted if only to get Sam off his back.

Fixing a smile on his face he turned and took a few steps towards the woman and leaned next to her.

Act casual.

“I’ll drink that,” he said, gesturing to the glass of wine before her.

“What?!” She asked, bemused.

“I mean I’ll buy you,” he tried again, wincing. “No! I mean I’ll get that drink for you.”

Her eyes widened as he stumbled over his words. Instead of responding, she slipped from the stool, giving him the cold shoulder as she disappeared towards the back of the bar.

With a groan, Bucky turned to Sam and glared pointedly. Sam sent a thumbs up and mouthed "Try again." before nodding towards the growing crowd of people.

Bucky licked his lips anxiously, blue eyes trying to casually scan the room like he used to do with Steve at the dance halls. Girls seemed easier to approach in his youth, but maybe he was just filled with Brooklyn-born confidence back then.

With his gut twisting uncomfortably, Bucky let his gaze skip from woman to woman. All of them beautiful but none of them gave him that feeling — the butterflies, the double-time beating of his heart.

God, he hated this.

And then it happened, the door closing and Bucky only quick enough to catch the back of her head but he knew. Brunette waves, no doubt in his mind this time. His eyes settled on her across the room and in his peripherals he sees Sam’s head turn to follow his gaze to the door.

Bucky met his eye briefly before Sam’s thumbs were flying across his phone screen. Bucky’s buzzed in his pocket and he fumbled for it before he scanned the message on the screen.

If you don’t, I will.

Bucky’s head whipped around to tell him to fuck off, but Sam was already striding toward the bathroom, lifting one hand to wave at him without looking.

You’re supposed to be my wingman, he typed back.

His phone lit up again.

That was never part of the bet 💃🏻

“I’m gonna break his phone,” he muttered. “And his fingers.”

When he looked back up at the brunette, she was flicking away tears. And she was alone. Her eyes landed on him for a split second. Was he imagining a brief moment of recognition? Or was he just nervous? She trudged up to the bar and leaned up against it, her tight black tank top rode up her back a little and Bucky stared up at the ceiling, fighting every urge not to stare her down like a creep. He wanted to work on his "game" as Sam called it-- but he didn't want to terrify women.

“Gin and tonic, please. Triple.”

Her voice was husky and laced with grief. She tossed some cash onto the counter and Bucky’s guts twisted. Who the hell made her cry? Before he could even think, he was walking up to the bar and pushing the cash back toward her as he dug his wallet out of his leather jacket.

“It’s on me.”

“Please,” she scoffed. “I don’t need a man to take pity on me. Not right now.”

“It ain’t pity…”

“Celeste,” she quietly supplied.

“Celeste,” he repeated, relishing the way her name felt. “I just thought it might put that beautiful smile back on your face.”

He thought he’d messed up again when she turned away from him but to his relief she didn’t walk off.

Shaking out her hair she adjusted her shirt and sniffled a few times. If it hadn’t been for his enhanced hearing he would never have caught her muttering.

“Can’t believe I meet Hot Grocery Store Guy looking like a royal mess. Must think I’m a psycho.”

“I don’t think you’re a— wait. Hot Grocery Store Guy?!”

Celeste snapped her head up, looking a little sheepish as her cheeks flushed a soft pink.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that,” she murmured.

Bucky chuckled and leaned against the bar, his nerves withering away as Celeste huffed out a quiet laugh too.

“I got good ears,” he replied, lips curved into a small smile.

“You got a name too? Unless you want me to call you Hot Grocery Store Guy?”

She smiled properly then, bright and just as gorgeous as he’d seen in the store.

“Bucky. Uh, Bucky Barnes.”

“Oh, okay, so Hot Grocery Store Guy is your middle name,” she replied with a grin. "Got it."

Bucky blushed furiously and swept a hand through his hair.

“Middle name’s Buchanan.”

“The worst President of all time?” She fired back with a teasing smile.

He exhaled, his shoulders shaking with laughter. This woman knew how to humble him. Quick. He liked that. Slowly, he could feel some of that bravado creeping back in.

“You’re killin’ me here, doll.”

Celeste laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and bit her lip. She was so beautiful, with soft freckles that cascaded down her cheekbones, and a few scattered on the bridge of her slightly upturned nose. Her warm brown eyes danced across his face and suddenly, Bucky felt like he wasn’t in control of this anymore.

“I’ll go easy on you from now on.” She licked her lips. “Bucky.”

He liked the way his name sounded on her lips. Maybe a little too much. He glanced down at the drink in front of her.

“You gonna let me pay for that?” He asked.

“That depends,” she breathed. “Are you planning on sticking around? 'Cause I could use a drinking buddy."

Bucky beamed.

"I'm here all night."

He could sense Sam exiting the bathroom even before he saw him, the smugness rolling off his friend in waves.

“How ‘bout you grab us a seat, Sweetheart, and I’ll join you in a second, yeah?” Bucky smiled, indicating his head towards Sam’s approaching figure.

“Sure,” she replied, picking up the bulbous gin glass and squeezing his arm before making her way through the bar.

“Well look at you, Tinman. Found your heart after all,” Sam drawled. “Is this the part where you introduce us?”

“No, this is the part where you leave,” Bucky replied, hoping Sam wouldn’t pick up on the desperate note in his voice.

“Leave! Are you kidding me?” Sam scoffs. “Not when the fun is about to start.”

“You just want to see me sweat,” Bucky rolls his eyes a little at that. He loved his friend for making him come here but, right now, he wants to focus on the gorgeous woman that’s waiting for him at the table without Sam’s watchful gaze. He doesn’t want to mess anything up just because his friend is giving him a thumbs-up from across the bar.

“But…”

Bucky gives him a look that says, ‘go or I’ll make you go’. “Fine,” Sam relents to his friends’ wishes and before he turns to leave, he says with a smile, "Good luck!"

"I am going to need it," Bucky murmurs and turns to find her watching their interaction with an amused expression.

“Go get her, tiger.” Sam clapped him on the back and Bucky swatted at him.

“Don’t call me that!” He snapped as he headed back toward Celeste. “So patronizing.”

“You got this, sport!” Sam called. "You're doing great, champ!"

Celeste looked confused while Bucky was blushing furiously as he wandered back to her.

“You gonna introduce me to Captain America?” She asked as she sipped her drink.

“Not until he behaves himself,” Bucky grumbled. He tried to shake off the nerves and climbed back onto the bar stool. “So… where were we?”

“Oh!” Her eyes widened and she rested her chin on her hand. “You were doing some pretty awkward flirting, and you still have to pay for my drink.”

His stomach flipped. Right. He forgot about that.

“Oh! Jeez,” he grumbled, digging into his wallet. He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “What a schmuck, huh?”

She giggled and placed a hand over his metal one. He flinched a little, but she didn’t move it. Her smile was warm and comforting. He could get used to seeing it every day.

“Bucky, it’s fine,” she giggled. “I’m just giving you a hard time. I’m sorry. I’ll stop.”

“No, no. I offered.” He pulled some cash out of his wallet and handed it to the bartender, shoving a little more into the tip cup. “Sorry. Okay, now where were we?”

“I found an empty booth back there,” she pointed, “I mean, if that’s ok with you? We can sit at the bar if you pref-“

“A booth’s fine, great actually,” he interrupted, eyeing Sam’s shaking shoulders as he edged away.

With a tight smile that still showed a hint of her earlier sadness, Celeste led the way across the bar towards the booths. Bucky followed close behind, his hand hovering at the small of her back, not quite touching.

“This ok?” She asked, looking back over her shoulder.

“Perfect,” he reassured.

They sit down and Bucky picks up the laminated menu, “Would you like something to eat? The pretzels here are amazing.”

“Pretzels?” Celeste asks, baffled at that. “From all of the menu items, a pretzel is the amazing thing here? That is so simple. Pretzels are the same everywhere! You cannot mess up a thing as basic as that.”

“You would be surprised,” Bucky replies, but he accomplished what he wanted – to put a smile on her face again.

“Okay, I’ll give you this one. Let’s order that and some potato skins. Now, those are good.”

With the food order, Bucky decides to ask what has been bothering her since he saw her at the bar. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Celeste glanced up from her drink, fingers stilling on the glass.

“Oh, uh…” she hesitated.

“You don’t have to,” Bucky rushed out, “I just— I have good ears… y’know, for listenin’.”

He was internally groaning even as the last word left his lips, but Celeste had her bottom lip tucked under her teeth, eyes sparkling with amusement as she stifled a giggle.

“You really are out of practice, huh?” She replied, but her tone wasn’t teasing, it was soft and understanding.

“Yeah,” Bucky muttered, cheeks flaming, “but even I know that was bad.”

“Self-awareness gets you brownie points,” she said, her lip quirking upwards into a smile.

“Somethin’s gotta,” Bucky winced, taking a swallow of his drink.

“It’s more than most guys have,” Celeste hummed and when he saw her expression change it finally clicked for Bucky what had made her so upset.

“Oh, Sweetheart, please don’t tell me you’re cut up over some dumb guy? I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna go kick his ass. He obviously needs some of the stupid knockin’ out of him.” Bucky made to get out of his seat but Celeste laughed and dragged him back.

She continued to giggle, covering her face with her hand as he muttered about stupid guys not knowing a good thing when they see one.

“No, no, don’t do that,” she continued to giggle. “He got a good talking to in his voicemail, believe me.”

Bucky huffed and rolled his eyes. “It’s not enough.”

She dropped her hands from her face and rested her fingers on his arm, "I'm better now, let's just forget that I got ghosted."

"Ghosted?" His brows scrunched together and Celeste started to laugh again. "I'm not very good with the terms. Will you tell me what happened?" He asked her. "With the ghost?"

She nodded and took a sip of her drink, swallowing it down as she settled into the booth. He liked that she was getting comfortable, her eyes widened a little and her bottom lip went slack. She was enjoying herself and it made him feel wonderful.

“It sounds stupid now that I think about it,” she sighed. “You’re gonna think I’m dumb.”

“I would never!” He gasped, looking mortally offended. “Cross my heart.”

“OK, I matched with this guy on a dating app and we hit it off, even spoke on the phone a couple of times. He talked a good game and we arranged to meet tonight but he never showed. Left me waiting in the restaurant for an hour and a half.”

She gave a little sigh and Bucky’s brows furrowed sympathetically.

“I tried the whole online dating thing too, it’s pretty crazy. A lot of weird pictures. I mean, tiger photos? Half the time I don’t even know what I’m looking at, it’s a lot.”

“Tiger photos?” Celeste laughed. “What?”

“Yeah, I didn’t get it either,” Bucky murmured. “Between that and getting random pictures of body parts I didn’t ask to see yet… I, uh…” He let out a chuckle. “I gave up pretty quick. It’s brutal out there. I don’t know how people do it.”

She raised her drink.

“To shitty online dates.”

They clink glasses and Bucky couldn't take his eyes off of her as she sips her drink.

“I’m pretty close to deleting the app myself,” she confessed. “Last month, I went out with this Wall Street guy and all he did was explain Bitcoin to me. Didn’t ask me about myself, my hobbies, just… tried to get me to invest. Come to think of it, I think it was a pyramid scheme. And he was sweating a lot.”

Bucky chuckled, his cheeks warming as her eyes lingered on his lips.

“Well, I’d like to know about your hobbies. And I only sweat a medium amount.”

“A medium amount, huh?” She laughed. Celeste took a sip from her drink and pondered a moment. “I like the outdoors. Walks in the park or through the zoo are stress relief for me.”

"The zoo?" Bucky hadn't been, "you'll have to take me, I mean if you want, I don't remember the last time I went to the zoo..."

"Planning our second date already?" Her hair fell over her shoulder as she tilted her head to the side.

"Well isn't this our first?" He asked her. There was a slight risk she might say no but he was willing to take it.

"And what about our third?" She smiled at him and he nearly fell out of his seat from the fireworks that exploded in his chest. "Where will you take me, I'm taking you to the zoo after all."

Bucky bit his lip, his heart racing. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sam watching them, chin resting on his hand like he was watching one of those stupid romantic comedies he said he never cried at.

He did. And so did Bucky.

Just two grown men sitting on the couch, pretending they didn’t have emotions during You’ve Got Mail.

“How about a walk through Central Park and dinner? Real dinner.”

“Real dinner?”

Her eyes sparkled and he wanted nothing more than to reach over the table and brush his fingertips across the soft pink flush that stained her cheeks.

“You like sushi?”

“I fucking love sushi,” she whispered. “Are you asking me out, Bucky Hot Grocery Store Guy Barnes?”

He cleared his throat and took another sip of his drink for a bit of liquid courage that he hadn’t actually felt since the ‘40s. The habit was just there. He drummed his metal fingers against the glass and she watched with fascination before her eyes met his.

“I think I might be,” he whispered.

“I’d say yes if you did,” Celeste returned, and it was her hand that slid halfway across the table, her palm up and her fingers outstretched.

Bucky was too dumbstruck to say anything else. He could feel his face burning as he reached out and placed his hand in hers, not able to tear his eyes away from her sweet, smiling face.

A crash sounded from the other side of the bar and Celeste let out a giggle, the direction her eyes were being drawn in told Bucky everything he needed to know.

“What did he do?” He sighed in consternation.

“Fist-bumped the air so hard he fell off his stool,” she replied between bouts of laughter.

Bucky’s head fell as he snorted, then laughed. “I would have paid to see that.”

“I’m pretty sure someone recorded it,” Celeste replied as she felt him grip her hand. “He is Captain America, after all.”

"Beautiful and smart," his eyes flickered to and from her lips, lingering on the corners of her mouth as she pulled the bottom lip between her teeth.

"How does anyone resist that charm?" she asked in a whisper as their bodies grew closer.

"I think you dragged it out of me," he whispered back.

"Kicking and screaming?" She laughed and her breath fanned across his cheeks.

"I'm waving a white flag," he winked at her.

“Well, someone should rescue you,” she chuckled.

He shrugged.

“We could always cut straight to that third date.”

Celeste’s eyes widened and suddenly, a bead of sweat trickled down his spine. He was really taking a leap of faith with this one. And Bucky wasn’t a huge fan of heights.

“You wanna leave your friend all humiliated and alone at the bar?”

Bucky drained his drink and shook his head, brows knitting together.

“Trust me, this won’t be something he gets mad at. One time I ripped off his wings and kicked him off a hellicarrier.”

Celeste choked on her drink and covered her mouth with one hand as she coughed. Bucky winced and looked away. Maybe that was too much.

“Wow, I thought I had shitty co-workers,” she snickered.

When he looked back, she was still laughing, her shoulders shaking and her eyes sparkling.

“Well, I’ve grown.”

“That’s important,” Celeste murmured as her thumb glided gently across his vibranium knuckles.

He couldn’t feel it, but he shivered all the same. She was totally unafraid. She treated him like he was any other guy as blush cascaded down her neck. His t-shirt was starting to feel a little too tight around the base of his throat and he slid his fingers between his skin and the fabric just so he could get a second to breathe. His heart was pounding. She hadn’t even said yes yet, and he was hanging on to every breath she took. Waiting.

Celeste’s lips curled into a smile.

“There’s a great ice cream place near Central Park,” she offered. “Maybe you could buy a gal a waffle cone.”

“I could do that,” he smiled back, his tongue darting out across his bottom lip.

“They even have pistachio, I think.”

“That’s my-“

“Favourite? Yeah, I thought so,” she said and then continued as she took in his curious expression. “You’ve always had a pint of pistachio in your cart in the store.”

Bucky couldn’t help the delighted laughter that bubbled up from his chest. He downed the last of his drink and stood from the booth, holding out his hand.

“Come on then, Beautiful Grocery Store Dame, let’s get some ice cream.”

Celeste blushed as she gently took Bucky’s hand and stood. “Lead the way.”

Bucky’s heart felt like it could burst as he led her out of the bar, turning back to look at her. “The park’s not far. Do you wanna walk? Did you drive here?”

"Walk," she answered quickly and gave his hand a squeeze. They walked through the crowd passed Sam who watched them with a shocked expression.

"Not a word," Bucky shook his head in passing. "Not a damn word Wilson!" He held open the door for Celeste to walk through, expecting her to drop her hold on him but she just tugged him out into the cool air away from the busy sounds of the crowded bar.

"That's better," Celeste nudged him as he scooted her to the inside of the sidewalk and directed them toward the park. "Now we can actually talk."

“Okay, so. You know I have a penchant for the outdoors and zoos,” she began. “Tell me about you.”

Bucky always dreaded this part. This was the reason a lot of his conversations on dating apps didn’t go anywhere. He hated talking about himself. What was there to say? Yeah, I did some casual assassinations for 70 years and got brainwashed and manacled to a chair. Not a big deal. Where did you say you worked again?

“Which version do you want?” He asked.

“I want the Bucky Barnes nobody sees. I know all about Hydra, and about you saving those hostages in New York and about being a big hero. But I want the real you.”

"That's a tall order," he chuckled.

"Almost as tall as you." He snorted and her hand slipped into his with relative ease. “But I think you’re up for it, Sergeant.”

His stomach fluttered and for a second, he was at a loss for words. He was a civilian now. His life was no longer about the fight. His therapist told him he had to find a balance between being a hero and being Bucky, but it wasn’t easy. That life was all he’d known, ever since he got drafted back in ’41.

“I have a cat,” he offered.

Celeste gasped.

“I love cats. Do you have pictures?”

He chuckled.

“So many.” He pulled out his phone and showed her a picture of Alpine napping in the sun. “She’s my wallpaper.”

“Oh my God, she’s gorgeous,” Celeste gushed, almost grabbing the phone from Bucky’s hands to take a closer look.

“Second prettiest girl I ever saw,” he said, proud of the way his words caused a flush to creep up the sides of Celeste’s throat. “But don’t tell her I said that.”

“Promise,” she grinned, releasing her grip on his phone and crossing her heart.

The gesture drew Bucky’s gaze to her chest, which then made him panic that she’d think he was staring, which in turn almost made him stumble over his own feet as they reached the entrance to the park.

“Come on, soldier, both feet,” Celeste chuckled, leading him forwards yet again.

Bucky laughed and shook his head as he regained his balance. “I’m sorry. I’m normally not like this.”

"Do you have-" He attempted to recover, "a cat, or a dog?"

"My apartment doesn't allow them but when I was little I had this grouchy old thing, grey fur, angry as all hell." She laughed and leaned in closer to him, resting her other hand on his chest as she snuggled into his arm. "He was mean until the day he died. You would have gotten along with him."

"Ha, ha," Bucky laughed leaning his chin toward her as they walked. "Okay next," he said trying to grasp at the normality of their conversation, "what do you like to do in your spare time? You know, when you aren't prowling the grocery store for hot men who love pistchio iceream."

“Skydiving. Arson. Um… a little bit of breaking and entering.”

Bucky stared at her for a second before she burst into laughter and leaned up against him, bumping him with her shoulder. She smelled like bergamot and caramel.

“Careful, doll. You’ll give an old man a heart attack pulling stunts like that.”

“Okay, okay,” she laughed. “I'll stop for real. I wouldn’t want that.”

“Well, that’s nice of you.”

“I mean, who would pay for my ice cream?” She quipped.

He shook his head, smiling from ear to ear. The more they talked, the more relaxed he felt. Celeste kept him on his toes— literally and metaphorically. He liked that.

“I’m mostly a big reader with no friends,” Celeste laughed.

Bucky pressed a hand to his chest.

“What a coincidence. I’m also a big reader with no friends.”

“You have a friend!” Celeste countered.

“Eh…” Bucky shrugged. “That’s putting it loosely.”

They continued walking along, a slight nuzzle every now and then for warmth.

"What kind of books do you like to read?"

Bucky loved her curiosity. "Mostly science fiction and fantasy. Someone on an app once called me a hot nerd." He thought for a second.

"Goddamnit, he was flirting with me. I'm dumb. I see that now."

Celeste let out a loud burst of laughter- more of a giggle. Bucky's eyebrows shot up and he couldn't help but chuckle

"Something I said?"

Celeste stopped them in their tracks and placed her hands against his chest. He blushed furiously.

"Self-awareness with a small peppering of self-deprecation. You better be careful, President Buchanan, or I just might fall for you."

His heart lept into his throat. He was quick, but she was quicker.

“I’ll race you down there,” he said, trying for smooth but the way Celeste threw her head back and cackled made him think he’d not quite hit the mark.

He laughed with her, and at himself, shaking his head and squeezing her fingers when her hand slipped back into his.

They continued along the path, admiring the late fall afternoon. Leaves crunched beneath their feet and the ducks on the lake seemed to follow them, perhaps hoping for crumbs.

They rounded a bend in the path and the vintage-style ice cream truck appeared, with a thankfully short queue. Joining it, Bucky’s heart nearly leaped out of his chest when Celeste snuggled closed to him, sliding her arm tentatively around his waist underneath his leather jacket.

He smiled down at her, feeling butterflies flutter in his chest. “Are you cold?” He asked softly. “I could offer my jacket?”

"I much prefer it this way," she nuzzled a little closer and knotted her fingers into the fabric to hold him close.

"You might change your mind after ice cream." He teased.

"Maybe, but we can deal with that later." She said, watching him as he ordered two ice creams for them. The waffle cone was warm in his hand and the ice cream cool against their lips as they curved down the path toward the quieter part of the park. She ate her cone quietly, every so often checking to make sure he was still there as if she wasn't attached to him.

"What?" Bucky finally asked, curious enough about what was going on behind her big beautiful eyes.

“You’ve got ice cream on your nose,” she giggled.

“Dammit—“

Bucky blushed and reached for it, but Celeste’s fingers bumped into his. His chest grew tight and suddenly, she was the only thing he could see. The people milling around them didn’t matter, and the sound of the traffic faded into the background as she licked her gorgeous, plump lips.

“Let me?”

His face was so warm, he was surprised he wasn’t melting his cone just by holding it in front of his face. She smiled at him, getting up on her tiptoes to swipe some pistachio ice cream off of his nose and lick her thumb.

“All gone,” she whispered. “You’re back to looking very suave.”

“Good. Wouldn’t want to ruin my disguise.”

She was still on her toes, her head tilted back slightly to meet his gaze, and his arm around her waist tightened just a little. It pulled her closer and she fitted against him like she was made to be there.

“Can I-can I try something?” He asked softly with a slight tremor to his words.

“I wish you would,” she whispered back.

James chewed at his bottom lip a moment before he gently rested his fingers under her chin. Then he dipped his head down to place a single chaste kiss to her lips.

A soft whimper left her lips as he pulled back, his hand tickling around her waist unwilling to let her go just yet. She looked up at him, nose cold from the chill air and cheeks red from blushing. "I'm really glad you did," she laughed breathlessly.

For such a tiny kiss Bucky could feel the vibrations of it down to the tips of his toes as he battled with the urge to steal another. Her lips were soft and tasted like ice cream. He just wanted more. For a day he had been so scared to begin, he didn't want it to ever end.

“You still up for dinner?” He asked.

“Tonight?”

Bucky shrugged.

“Sure. I’m not doing anything, and you’re already dressed for a date.”

She clicked her tongue.

“I don’t know… I might need some convincing.”

He frowned and tilted his head. Sam called it his golden retriever head tilt.

“Convincing?”

Celeste beamed and got up on her tiptoes, pressing a slower kiss to his lips. Bucky’s hand slid around the back of her neck as she nipped gently at his bottom lip and he blushed as she tugged on it, releasing it with a gentle pop. He whimpered, his eyelids fluttering as she gazed up at him, batting her eyelashes.

“I think we’re supposed to kiss after the date,” he whispered.

“We’re also supposed to have ice cream after dinner, so we can let some things slide.”

Bucky cleared his throat and nodded. Celeste giggled and nuzzled against him.

“I’d love to have dinner with you, Bucky.”

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