#seb stan fanfic

[usetheeauthor]

Kinkmas Day 3: Love Faces + Babytrapping + Bathroom Sex

Older!Realtor!Edward Lemuel/Guy Moratz x Bimbo!Influencer!Reader

Warnings: age gap (ed: early 50s, reader: mid 20s), delulu!edward but also he’s completely right, yandere!edward, oral (m receiving), ball worship, curvy/chubby!reader, mentions of insecurities, babytrapping, grower not show-er!edward, praise kink, little bit of humiliation kink, breeding kink, sloppy/rough kissing, unprotected p in v, creampie, scratching & biting, desperate sex, switch!couple

Summary: Banging your realtor in your new home sounds like a nice way to celebrate a close.

Gif credit: @/thelovewittch

a/n: writing for him cause I can’t get him out of my head so why the fuck not. Had the older him in mind and ran with it. Some inspo from the movie ‘The Substance’ in this because it felt very similar some of the messages they had.

YOUR knee brushed against his. Could it have been intentional? Could you even do something so scandalous in the vicinity of your parents? And you’re sitting super close. There’s so much room on this piano bench and yet you sat this close to him. God, he could smell your vanilla-scented perfume, wishing he could lathe his tongue across your delicate throat to see if he could taste it, too. He could feel the heat radiating from you and when it makes contact with his skin, he imagines for a moment that he could live in it. He hears the sweet gasp that escapes your lips when you run your fingers along the ivory keys.

YOU’RE a music enthusiast, it seems.

Edward was only showing off the piano display included with the home. He sat at its bench and playfully fooled around on the instrument when you decided to sit beside him and play truthfully. Beautifully.

Every now and then, you’d reach for a key over on his side and he’d force himself not to shudder when the action forced your bodies even closer.

He’s got to remain professional. His clients wouldn’t appreciate their realtor popping a boner over their sweet daughter but he’s hopelessly infatuated with you.

Just today—only 15 minutes into the tour where he’d first laid his eyes on you, Edward believes he’s found his soulmate in you. It’s love at first sight. You must feel it, too!

When he’d greeted you…you smiled and greeted him back! You laughed at his little jokes throughout the tour. And now you’re here beside him, making indiscreet attempts at being close while your parents examine the bedrooms upstairs.

“You played wonderfully?” He says with a goofy lovestruck smile.

“You liar,” You giggle. “That was so awful. If my piano teacher would have heard me play just now, he’d place one of those ice cream cone hats teachers used to make bad kids wear in the black and white days. I think it was called a dense hat?”

“A dunce hat.” He corrects.

“That’s the one,” You nod, pointing an acrylic-donned nail at him. “You’re so smart, Mr. Guy.”

“M-my first name is actually Guy.”

“So your name is Mr. Guy Guy?” You ask, blinking perplexedly.

“Guy Moratz.” Edward answers, trying to contain his excitement.

YOU just asked for his name! You half-remembered his name! If this isn’t your attempt to get to know him then he doesn’t what is?

“There’s a pool in this house, right, Mr. Guy?” You ask, glossing over his correction.

“Yes, an indoor pool.”

“Sweet,” You smile before pulling out your cell phone. “Think you could take some photos of me around the place.”

“Of course. Anything for you, my darling…client.” Edward answers awkwardly, attempting to stand on his feet but you sink your sharp nails into his biceps a little, pulling him back down on the bench. His dick jumps a little in trousers at this.

“Can I get one quick selfie with you?” You plead with the added pout and puppy dog eyes. You look so gosh darn pretty. “I want my instagram followers to see me with my new realtor. They’re coming along with me on my housing journey so I’m documenting anything I can. I’m practically the most mature influencer of my friend circle. They’re all still living together as roommates but I think I’m ready to be an adult. Just between you and I, though, let’s pretend I was the one who’d found you and not my parents.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.” Edward says and just as he finishes his sentence, you snap a quick photo of the two of you. You show him the picture and he frowns for a moment. He wasn’t ready and the photo didn’t capture his good side. What if you stare at that photo long enough and think he’s not as handsome as you’d believe? Or worse you show this photo to your girlfriends and they’d tell you how unattractive he is.

“You don’t like it?” You ask in a soft, whimper.

“It’s…okay. I was just in the middle of speaking so my mouth looks a little wide in that photo which made my head shape look weird and…”

“I could retake it. No biggie. But I’d like to keep this photo anyway. If you’d let me, pretty please.” You beg.

“Why?”

You lean in, whispering, “Because I want…to compare my best photos and I think I look hot as fuck in this one,” Standing on your feet, you yank down your tight pink dress that rode up your thick thighs before strutting to the nearest hallway. Edward. “Come on, take me to that indoor pool you’ve been raving about. I don’t want my parents catching up to us in case my besties want to facetime. I’ll see if I can crop you out of that photo later, if you’d like. Or I can even edit it to make it look better so that way we won’t have to keep retaking it. I, also, hate it whenever a friend keeps a bad photo of me just to use it against me or something.“

Edward fawns over you. You’re so considerate! To be kind enough to edit a photo for your realtor?! You’d probably do such a kind act for him no matter what he looked like. For that reason, his heart further warms up to you. You’re different. You’re not like Ingrid or the other women. You care about his feelings, you saw through him for the better. Just as a soulmate would do.

“Here is your stunning indoor pool room for your comfort, privacy, and all year-round enjoyment. This luxurious space boasts—”

“Can you take a photo of me here by the pool?” You question, already having dipped your feet into the cool water.

“Yes.” He takes a step forward looking for a position that would best capture the light in your eyes. Every angle is perfect. Oh, to have been born with such beauty. There’s no doubt your children together would be gorgeous.

Edward settles near the pool’s edge, standing in front of you as he snaps a quick photo. You stand giddily on your feet, singing him praises of his methods. “Are you some kind of a professional photographer?”

“Nope but I do a little acting on the side.” He laughs but once again his smile becomes a deep frown. Just in the background of the photo is his face upon the water’s surface, the waviness of the ripples causing its reflected image to distort. It’s…ugly.

“You think you can crop that part out, too, dear?” He inquires.

“What part?” You ask, squinting. He points at the small face in the background, it’s so small in comparison to the rest of the image that his thick index finger practically buried it. “Geez, you’re quite the stickler. But I can do that for you.”

“Thank you,” He exhales. “You look amazing in this photo of course. So you don’t have to delete the photo.”

“Mhm.” You say, side-eyeing him a little.

Edward lets out a nervous laugh, hoping to relieve any awkward tension. “Shall we go to the home theater?”

“Actually let’s see a bathroom, preferably ones with nice large mirrors. I need to take a pic of my outfit of the day.” You suggest.

“As you wish.” He laughs, feeling his confidence mask slipping. From the way you grimace at him, you can surely tell he’s crumbling. Could it be that you could sense his old self shining through? That you can see that he’s just a husk of a man still even after all these years. There has to be someone he could convince that he’s made for you. Just one more good picture to show you that he’s as perfect as you.

You’re led to a guest bathroom with gold accents and pearly white floor and wall tiles. There’s two large vanity mirrors—in fact, every surface of this bathroom is reflective. Edward is hesitant to enter, watching you take your photos from just outside the door.

You shoot him an uncomfortable glance, placing your phone on the counter. “Are you just going to stand there like an old creep?”

Old.

He is old, isn’t he? Fading in youth and beauty while you’re currently in the thick of it. And all he can do is ogle you like a pervert in your presence, yearning for you to see him in a better light.

“I’m asking you to come in here, dude,” You laugh, taking his hands to drag him inside. “You owe me a selfie.”

“In here? Wouldn’t that be a little strange?”

“Not for the kinds I wanna take. Here is the best place,” You whisper in his ear, sending a chill down his spine. You’re so, so close. He can hardly breathe. “The lighting’s better in here anyway. Ya know, so we can best capture your features.”

You stared up at him with those curious wide eyes, studying him up close. He couldn’t possibly look appealing from this angle. He still has the faded scars of the surgery just under his chin. You shouldn’t have to see him this way. So imperfect.

“Great idea.”

“Awesome! So, we’re gonna take this quick photo op and then we’ll go back to consult with my parents on how I feel about all this place, yeah? Do you have any pointers for how you want to take this photo?”

“No flash photography,” He says with a half-heartedly cocky wink. “The exposure might over wash my face with light, making it look all blotchy and sharp. And keep it at a distance just about my waist so it’s not too close but not too far either.”

He’s just so funny and kind of pathetic to you that you can’t help but find it endearing. “Wow, you know your angles, that’s for sure. Must’ve had a lot of practice. Are you sure weren’t a photographer in another life?”

“Just gotta keep up appearances,” He laughs. “It’s what pays the bills.”

“So is it always so prim and proper with you? Can’t it be a little…raw? Sometimes things should be candid; in the moment. Perfect can be a little boring sometimes. “You turn for a moment to lock the door behind you then your hands are on his belt and your knees are on the floor. “I can show you the best way to take photos. Try this method once and you’ll always feel beautiful no matter what.”

Edward isn’t sure what to do, mouth dry. All he can do is let out a strangled gasp and whine. You’ve barely touched him yet and he’s already a mess.

Torturously slow, you forcefully untuck his shirt from his pants and begin to unbuckle his belt, rubbing your face up and down along the trouser’s fabric as you do so. Your eyes never leave his, wanting him to see your desire in them. Yanking down his underwear along with his pants, his semi-hardened cock is free of its confines. You pinch it between two acrylic fingers, holding it the way you would a little worm.

“Aww, how adorable.” You giggle, releasing his cock so it fell over his balls. You lap your tongue over the length of it before pulling away with a stick line of saliva connecting you two. He whimpers quietly, trying to hold back his facial expressions. Even in the throes of passion, he stresses his appearance.

You cup his large balls in your hand, bringing them to your lips to place a red lipstick stained kiss on each scrotum. “Now these are huge. So good for breeding your woman. I bet you’ve got so much cum in them just begging to impregnate.”

“Fuck…please.” Edward whines, white knuckling the marble sink behind him.

You take the uncircumcised tip into your mouth sucking on it lightly and his eyes roll back, lips parting in complete bliss. It’s been so long since he’s felt the warmth of an eager mouth around his cock.

“It turns me on seeing the way your face changes,” You sigh before lowering your mouth down his length once more. He swells at your praise, growing larger in size down your throat. You gag, pulling away as spit dribbles down your chin. “Ooo, a grower. You’re full of surprises, Mr. Guy.”

You suckle on his leaking tip, kneading his balls to milk him for all his worth. Edward’s facial expressions are beyond reserved by this point, allowing himself to enjoy your worship of him.

“I love you.” He rasps, mainly to himself but you hear his breathy words nonetheless.

You moan against him, cranking up your motions on his shaft. It shouldn’t turn you on this much that this stranger just to you he loved you. It was so pathetic and sickeningly that’s what made it all the more hot.

You dig your nails into the back of his thighs, taking his cock deeper until your nose brushes against his fuzzy pubic hair.

Edward suddenly gets the twisted plan to assure you as his for good. The thought of finishing inside you plagues his mind enough that he forces your mouth off him, yanking you to your feet, to bend you over the sink. He’s going to put a baby in you. You’ll be his forever then.

“I need to be inside you. I have to.” He whimpers, yanking your panties down your legs.

“I wanna look at you. Can I please?”

He answers you with a passionate kiss, turning you over so that he can wrap his arms around your rubenesque form to seat you on the cold marble.

Your kisses are sloppy and messy, neither of you able to remain controlled enough not to knock teeth or bite lips. Edward spreads your legs for him, sliding you down the counter just enough to close the gap between your bodies.

You remove his glasses that fogged within your heated entanglement. With one hand held his jaw in place, keeping him from hiding his face. The other went down between your bodies, guiding him inside you. You both let out groans at the euphoric feeling.

He starts out at a heavy pace, slamming himself hard and deep inside you. You barely have time to adjust, forced to take him the punishing pounding. Though, your eyes threaten to flutter close from the bliss, you keep your eyes locked on him watching his every facial expression.

“Look at yourself, baby,” You mewl. “You look so fucking good when you don’t care how you look. God, those pretty faces you’re making are gonna make me come so hard.”

He glances at himself in the mirror. His unkempt appearance startled him for a moment but then your nails rake down his back, stab into his buttocks forcing him deeper inside you and he’s soon abandoning any care. You begin to suck along his jawline, meeting him thrust for thrust.

His hands excitedly explore whatever they can touch: cupping your ass, squeezing your breasts, clawing his nails along your thick thighs, or holding you tight against him.

The sounds of your tryst are sheer filth as his grunts clash in time with your moans. Neither of you do anything to minimize your volumes, disregarding that your parents could be just outside the door hearing this.

You control him by his hair forcing him to look at you while his face contorted in pleasure. His lips are now swollen from the rough kisses, his hair and clothes are disheveled, and he’s far gone from bliss. He’s absolutely perfect for you like this.

“It’s… so wet,” He whispers hotly in your ear, considering it your only warning you’ll get before he shoots up his hot liquid inside you. He expects some resistance; for you to push him away. Instead, you draw him close, touching the tip of your panting tongue to his as you wrap your legs around him. You refuse to let go. “I’m close. Fuck, I’m so close.”

“Cum in me. Please, baby, please. I’m not on birth control. Need you to breed me. Wanna be owned by you.” You cry, clamping your teeth on his bottom lip in time with your clenching walls.

Once again, you both let out guttural groans in unison as you reach your explosive peaks. You sob, real hot tears streaming down your face as you finally received what you’ve been craving.

His euphoric expression singes into the back of his mind forever a memory. He’d never let loose this wildly with any woman. The two of you tremble against one another from the intense aftershock of your combined orgasms. Edward plunges himself into your wet heat repeatedly, filling the air with sticky clicking noises made by your combined fluids. Satisfied you’ve received every drop, he finally stills.

“I’ll think about closing on this house. On the condition that we christen every room in this place. My hope is that I can pull the most unholy faces out of you once I ride you like a horse,” You trace your finger along the salt and pepper stubbles on his chin. “Promise me you won’t hold back next time, pretty boy. I meant it when I said you owe another photo.”

[the-winter-spider]

I miss you, I'm sorry

Bucky x Reader AU

Word Count: 10k+

Warnings: Toxic, angst, smut

A/N: I love Gracie, and was like fuck it gonna toss something together based off my fav songs by her

The air feels heavy, even though the room is quiet. You sit cross-legged on your bed, your phone resting beside you, the screen dim and blank. The minutes bleed into each other, but you can’t stop glancing at the clock, as if willing it to rewind to before it all.

It’s been three days. Three days of no texts, no calls, no nothing. That’s how it always goes with Bucky. He’s there, and then he’s not. And every time, you tell yourself it’ll be the last time you wait for him to come back.

It never is.

You hate him for how easy it is to disappear. You hate yourself more for letting him.

The phone rings.

The sharp sound cuts through the haze of your thoughts, and for a moment, your heart skips. You snatch the phone up, seeing his name flash across the screen. The sight of it sends a rush of relief, anger, and something softer, something stupidly hopeful, all at once.

You answer, but don’t say anything.

“Hey.” His voice is quiet, gravelly. Tired.

You swallow the lump in your throat. “Hey.”

The silence stretches, brittle and uncomfortable. You can hear him breathing on the other end, steady and soft. It reminds you of the way his breath felt against your skin the last time he stayed over, the last time he let himself get too close before pulling away again.

“I shouldn’t have called,” he mutters finally, his voice tight. “I just… couldn’t sleep.”

You close your eyes. There it is again, the push and pull. The way he says he shouldn’t but always does. The way he drags you back into his orbit every time, knowing you’ll stay.

“What do you want, Bucky?” you ask, keeping your voice steady. It’s a question you’ve asked a hundred times, and you already know the answer.

He exhales sharply, like he’s frustrated—at you, at himself, you’re not sure. “I don’t know.” Another pause. “You were right, okay? About everything. I just…” His voice trails off, and you can picture him sitting on the edge of his bed, rubbing the back of his neck the way he always does when he’s trying to find the words. “I hate this.”

“Hate what?” you snap, the simmering frustration bubbling to the surface. “Hate that you always come back? Or hate that you can’t figure out what the hell you want?”

He doesn’t answer. He never does when you call him out like this.

The silence makes your chest ache. You shake your head, even though he can’t see you. “You can’t keep doing this, Bucky. You can’t keep pulling me back just to push me away again. It’s not fair.”

“I know,” he whispers. And he sounds so broken, so genuine, that it cracks something inside you. It always does.

You take a shaky breath. “Then why do you do it?”

“I don’t know,” he says again. His voice is quieter now, softer, like he’s afraid of breaking you more than he already has. “Because you’re the only thing that feels real. And I don’t know how to hold onto it without screwing it up.”

Your throat tightens. You wish you didn’t understand. But you do. He’s always been good at giving you just enough to stay, but never enough to feel whole. “Its not enough Buck”

“I know,” he says, his voice breaking slightly. “But it’s all I’ve got, you're all i truly have."

You sighed running your head through your hair “Do you wanna come over?”

“I’m already on my way”

You don't have to wait long. The sound of his motorcycle pulling up to your place makes your stomach do a little flip, even though you're still mad at him. You hear his heavy boots on the stairs, and then a soft knock at your door.

You take a deep breath before opening it. He's standing there, his hair tousled from the ride, his face tight and tired. He looks at you, and for a moment, it's like all the walls come down. He reaches out, cupping your face with his hand, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone.

"I'm sorry," he says, his voice rough. "I'm so fucking sorry."

And just like that, you melt. You lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed. His other hand comes up to wrap around your waist, pulling you close. He smells like leather and cigarettes and something uniquely him.

"I missed you," he murmurs, pressing his forehead to yours. "I hate not seeing you."

"I hate it too," you whisper back. "But you can't keep doing this, Bucky. You can't keep hurting me."

He makes a soft, broken sound. "I know. I'm trying, okay? I'm really trying."

The door closes softly behind them, the click of the lock echoing in the charged silence. Bucky's hand is still cupping your face, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheekbone. You lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed as you breathe him in. He smells like leather and smoke, like home and danger all rolled into one.

You press yourself against him, feeling the hard planes of his body through his clothes. He's solid and warm and real, and it's been too long since you've felt him like this. His hands slide down to your waist, pulling you flush against him as he claims your mouth in a hungry kiss.

You moan into it, your fingers tangling in his hair. He kisses like your fights- fierce and intense, like he's trying to claim every inch of you. You kiss back just as fiercely, your tongue sliding against his as you lose yourself in the feel of him.

He walks you backwards towards the bed, his hands roaming your body as he goes. He breaks the kiss only to yank your shirt over your head, tossing it aside carelessly. His mouth is back on yours before you can even blink, his hands cupping your breasts through your bra.

You arch into his touch, your nipples hardening under his palms. He groans low in his throat, his hips pressing forward to grind against yours. You can feel his hardness through his jeans, and it makes you ache with need.

He breaks the kiss again, trailing his lips down your neck as his hands work to unclasp your bra. It falls to the floor, joining the growing pile of clothes. He takes a moment to look at you, his eyes dark with desire as they rake over your naked breasts.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he murmurs, his hands cupping the soft mounds. You gasp as his thumbs brush over your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you.

He leans down, taking one of the hardened peaks into his mouth. You cry out, your fingers tangling in his hair as he sucks and licks and nibbles. Your hips buck against his, seeking friction, and he groans around your nipple, the vibrations making you shiver.

He gives the other breast the same attention, lavishing it with kisses and bites until you're writhing beneath him. Only then does he move lower, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your stomach as he kneels before you.

His hands hook in the waistband of your jeans, tugging them down along with your panties. You step out of them, kicking them aside as he looks up at you from his knees. The sight of him there, kneeling before you like you're a goddess to be worshipped, makes your knees weak.

"Bucky," you breathe, and it's half plea, half prayer.

He grins up at you, a devilish glint in his eyes. "Patience, baby. I'm going to take my time with you."

And then his mouth is on you, his tongue delving between your folds to taste you. You cry out, your head falling back as pleasure crashes over you. He licks and sucks and teases, his hands gripping your hips to hold you in place as he devours you.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him to you as he drives you closer and closer to the edge. Just when you think you can't take anymore, he pulls back, leaving you gasping and empty.

"Bucky, please," you whimper, and he chuckles darkly.

"Please what, baby? Tell me what you want."

"I want you," you pant, looking down at him with desperation in your eyes. "I want you inside me."

He stands up, pulling you flush against him as he captures your mouth in a searing kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips, and it makes you even more aroused. His hands grip your ass, kneading the flesh as he grinds his hardness against your bare core.

"Bed," he growls against your lips, and you nod frantically, tugging him towards the mattress.

You tumble onto the bed together, a tangle of limbs and desire. He breaks the kiss to sit up, yanking his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. You take a moment to admire the hard planes of his chest, the scars that crisscross his skin like a roadmap of his past.

He crawls back over you, his hips settling between your thighs as he reaches for his belt. You watch, transfixed, as he unbuckles it and shoves his jeans and boxers down, freeing him.

He settles back over you, his head brushing against your entrance. You shudder at the contact, your hips lifting to try and draw him in.

"Tell me you want this," he whispers, his voice rough with need. "Tell me you want me."

"I want you," you breathe, wrapping your legs around his waist. "I want all of you."

And with that, he thrusts into you, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth motion. You cry out at the sudden fullness, your nails digging into his shoulders as you adjust to the stretch.

He pauses for a moment, letting you get used to him. Then he starts to move, pulling out slowly before slamming back in. You meet him thrust for thrust, your hips rising to take him deeper.

The bed creaks beneath you as he sets a relentless pace, driving into you again and again. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with your moans and his grunts of pleasure.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groans, burying his face in your neck. "So perfect."

You clench around him in response, and he curses, his hips snapping forward harder.

"I'm gonna come," you gasp, your body tensing beneath him. "Bucky, I'm gonna-"

But he cuts off your words with a kiss, swallowing your cries of pleasure as you come undone beneath him. Your body spasms around him, milking him as he follows you over the edge with a hoarse shout of your name.

He collapses on top of you, both of you gasping for breath as the aftershocks of your orgasms roll through you. He presses soft kisses to your neck, your jawline, your lips as you bask in the afterglow.

"I love you," he murmurs against your skin, and you hope it's just not the sex talking.

Later that week, you’re sitting at a bar with Natasha. She watches you nurse your drink, her sharp green eyes narrowing as you tell her what happened.

“He called,” you say, staring down at the condensation on your glass. “And like an idiot, I picked up, and he came over, we had sex and he was gone in the morning”

Natasha doesn’t say anything at first. She just leans back, crossing her arms. “What do you want me to say?” she asks finally. “That he’s going to change? That this time will be different?”

You shake your head. “No. I just…” You trail off, struggling to put the feeling into words. “I just wish I didn’t miss him so much. I wish I could stop.”

She sighs, leaning forward. “Listen to me,” she says, her voice soft but firm. “He’s not going to fix this. You know that, right? He’s not going to wake up one day and suddenly figure out how to love you the way you deserve. That’s not who he is, you have to know that babe…"

“I know,” you whisper. But the ache in your chest doesn’t go away.

Natasha exhales deeply, tilting her head as if trying to decide whether to push further. Finally, she sets her drink down and leans across the table, her voice quieter but no less serious. “So, what’s the plan? You gonna keep answering when he calls? Keep letting him come over, screw you and your head, and leave like nothing happened?”

You don’t answer, just trace the edge of your glass with your finger. The truth is, you don’t have a plan. You’re not even sure you want one. “He said he loves me, he's never said that before”

Natasha leans back in her chair, crossing her arms as she studies you. Her sharp green eyes narrow slightly, but there’s no satisfaction in her expression. She doesn’t look impressed, doesn’t look relieved, like you’d hoped she might. Instead, her face softens, just slightly, in that way that means she’s about to say something you don’t want to hear.

“Okay,” she says slowly, her voice calm but pointed. “And what does that change?”

Her question hits like a bucket of cold water, and you blink at her, your fingers freezing mid-trace on the rim of your glass. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, so what?” Natasha continues, leaning forward now, her elbows on the table. “He said the words. Great. But what does that actually mean to you? Did it make you feel better? Did it fix anything?”

You open your mouth to reply, but no words come out. The truth sits heavy in your chest.

“It’s not enough just to say it,” Natasha presses, her tone still steady but with an edge of frustration. “Love isn’t just words. It’s showing up. It’s consistency. It’s choosing someone, not just when it’s convenient, but every single day. Did he do that? Or did he just say what you’ve been waiting to hear and then disappear again?”

The ache in your chest tightens, and you look down, your fingers clutching the glass like it might hold the answers you’re searching for. “He—he’s trying,” you say weakly, but even you don’t sound convinced.

Natasha lets out a breath, her voice softening again. “Babe… I know you want to believe him. I know you love him. But this?” She gestures vaguely, as if to encompass all of it—your tears, the late-night calls, the endless cycle. “This isn’t what love is supposed to feel like. Love doesn’t leave you questioning your worth every time the sun comes up.”

The words settle over you like a weight, and you swallow hard, blinking back the tears that threaten to spill. You don’t want her to see you cry. Not here. Not like this.

“Nat…” you start, your voice barely above a whisper. But she shakes her head, her expression soft but unyielding.

“I’m not saying this to hurt you,” she says gently. “I just… I want you to be happy. And you’re not happy right now. You haven’t been for a long time.”

Before you can respond, the stool next to her screeches, and Sam slides into it, his energy a stark contrast to the heavy atmosphere between you and Nat. He plunks his beer on the table and gives you a once-over.

“Well, you look like someone stole your puppy,” he says, his tone light but his eyes sharp.

Natasha shoots him a look. “Not the time, Sam.”

“I’m just saying,” he replies, leaning back and gesturing to you. “She’s been sitting here all night, looking like a sad indie song, and you’re just gonna let her wallow?”

You glare at him, the frustration bubbling to the surface. “Do you have something to say, or are you just here to make jokes?”

“Both,” Sam says, taking a sip of his beer before setting it down. “Look, I love you, but this thing with Bucky? It’s killing you, and everyone can see it. Hell, you can see it, but you’re still pretending like it’s gonna work itself out.”

“Sam,” Natasha warns, but he holds up a hand.

“No, let me finish,” he says, his voice more serious now. “I’ve been where you are, okay? Hanging onto something that’s breaking you because you’re scared to let it go. But you know what happens if you keep holding on?” He pauses, meeting your eyes. “You lose yourself. And I don’t want that for you.”

His words hit harder than you expect, and for a moment, all you can do is sit there, blinking back the tears threatening to spill.

“I don’t know how to let him go,” you admit finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t even know who I am without him.”

Sam leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Then it’s time to figure that out. Because you deserve better than waiting around for someone who doesn’t see how amazing you are—not someone who only comes around when it’s convenient for him.”

After Sam and Natasha head home, you find yourself walking through the quiet streets, your hands shoved into your coat pockets. The city hums around you, but you feel untethered, like you’re floating between who you are and who you want to be.

Before you realize it, your feet take you to Bucky’s building. You stop at the corner, staring up at the windows. The lights in his apartment are off, but you know he’s there. He’s always there.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket. You pull it out, your heart sinking when you see his name.

Bucky: You up?

The message is simple, familiar, and infuriatingly tempting. Your thumb hovers over the screen.

You: Yes, just leaving the bar.

Bucky: Ill see you in 20.

You see his light flick on.

You: Okay.

You’re sitting in your apartment with Steve. He’d shown up unexpectedly, a bag of bagels in one hand and a concerned look on his face. Now, he’s watching you carefully as you pick at your food, the silence between you growing heavier by the minute.

“I heard about last night,” he says eventually, breaking the stillness.

You glance up, narrowing your eyes. “Natasha?”

“Sam,” he admits with a small smile, but his expression stays serious. “He’s worried about you. We all are.”

You sigh, leaning back against the couch. “I’m fine, Steve.”

“You’re not fine,” he says gently, setting his coffee down on the table. “And it’s okay to not be fine. But you need to stop punishing yourself for wanting more than what Bucky can give you.”

Your chest tightens, and you look away, your voice barely audible. “He’s not a bad person, Steve. He’s just… broken.”

“I know he is,” Steve says softly, his tone patient but firm. “And I know he cares about you, even if he’s too scared to show it. But that doesn’t mean you have to keep hurting yourself to save him.”

You open your mouth to respond, but the words get stuck in your throat. Instead, you ask the question that’s been clawing at you for days. “Is he seeing anyone else?”

Steve freezes mid-bite, his jaw tightening. “Yes.”

You nod slowly, your hands trembling as you set your plate down on the coffee table. “Are they… are they having sex?”

Steve’s shoulders sag slightly, and he shakes his head. “No.”

The relief you feel is fleeting, quickly replaced by another ache—something deeper, sharper. “He told me he loves me, y’know,” you whisper, your voice cracking.

That makes Steve freeze completely. He sets his bagel down, staring at you with wide, startled eyes. “He said that?”

You nod, the words pouring out of you now, unfiltered and raw. “He’s never said it before. And I didn’t know what to do. Because it felt… real. For a second, it felt like maybe this time was different. But then he was gone the next morning, like always.”

Steve leans back in his chair, his brow furrowed, like he’s trying to process what you’ve just said. “Did he mean it?” he asks finally, his voice cautious.

You let out a bitter laugh, wiping at your eyes. “I don’t know, Steve. Does it matter? He says one thing, but everything else he does just…” You trail off, shaking your head.

“It matters,” Steve says firmly, leaning forward. “If he loves you, that’s something. But love isn’t enough if he can’t show it, if he can’t make you feel it.” Steve is quiet for a long moment, his expression pained. “You deserve more than that,” he says finally. “You deserve someone who’s not afraid to fight for you. Someone who doesn’t make you feel like you’re asking for too much just by being yourself.”

-----------

The music is loud, pulsing through the crowded bar in a steady rhythm that matches the pounding in your chest. You're friends are off dancing their cares away, while you sit at a small table near the corner, nursing your drink, half-hidden in the dim lighting. The condensation from the glass drips onto your hand, but you barely notice.

Your eyes keep drifting to him.

Bucky is across the room, his arm slung casually around another woman’s shoulders. She’s laughing, tilting her head toward him like he’s just told her the funniest joke in the world. He looks… relaxed. At ease in a way you haven’t seen in a long time, and it’s like someone’s taken a knife to your chest, twisting it deeper with every passing second.

You force yourself to look away, staring into the amber liquid in your glass like it holds answers to questions you’re too scared to ask. But it doesn’t work. Your gaze flickers back to him, almost involuntarily.

They’re dancing now, swaying to a song you don’t recognize. His hand rests lightly on her hip, his fingers brushing against the fabric of her dress in a way that feels too intimate, too familiar.

And then he kisses her.

Not on the lips, but on her head, his lips lingering against her hair as she leans into him. It’s tender, effortless, the kind of gesture that feels natural, like it belongs to someone who knows how to love without hesitation.

Your chest tightens, and you swallow the lump forming in your throat, forcing yourself to take another sip of your drink. The bitterness burns your tongue, but it’s nothing compared to the ache spreading through you.

You tell yourself you don’t care. That this doesn’t matter. That he’s made his choice, and it isn’t you.

But the truth is, it matters too much.

You drain the rest of your drink, the cold liquid going down in one sharp swallow. You set the glass down harder than you mean to, the dull thud lost in the noise of the bar.

You glance over at him one last time, just to confirm what you already know. He’s still there, his attention focused on her.

But then his eyes shift.

He sees you.

For a split second, your gazes lock across the room, and the weight of his stare pins you in place. His hand pauses on her back, and something flickers in his expression—guilt, maybe, or regret.

You can’t tell, and you’re not sure you want to.

The heat of his gaze follows you as you stand, slipping your bag over your shoulder and making your way toward the door. The noise of the bar fades into the background as you weave through the crowd, your footsteps quick and purposeful.

You don’t look back, but you can feel him watching you, his eyes lingering like a phantom touch that burns even after you’re gone.

The cold night air hits your face as you step outside, and you inhale deeply, trying to push the ache in your chest away.

But it stays. It always stays.

That night, you’re curled up on your couch, a blanket wrapped around you as the city lights flicker through the window. Your phone sits on the coffee table, dark and silent.

Until it’s not.

The screen lights up, and Bucky’s name appears. The voicemail notification lingers like a ghost, and your hand trembles as you reach for it.

You press play, his voice cracking through the silence.

“I know I’ve screwed this up. I know I don’t deserve another chance. But I miss you, and I don’t know how to do this without you. Please… just call me, I’m sorry”

-------

You find him outside on the balcony, leaning heavily against the railing, his shoulders hunched like the weight of the world is pressing down on him. The cold night air bites at your skin, and the faint glow of the streetlights below casts shadows that dance across his face. He doesn’t turn when you step out. He never does. That’s the thing about Bucky—he always knows you’re there, but he’s mastered the art of pretending not to.

The sound of the sliding door closing behind you feels final, like you’ve just stepped into a space you won’t come back from. Your arms wrap around yourself, a weak defense against the cold—or maybe against him—and you take a hesitant step forward.

“I thought you left,” you say, breaking the fragile quiet. Your voice wavers, as unsure as the ground you’re standing on.

He finally looks over his shoulder, his eyes heavy and rimmed with shadows. He looks wrecked. Tired in a way that no amount of sleep could fix. “Almost did,” he says softly, his voice barely audible over the distant hum of the city.

You step closer, your chest tightening at his words, at the way he doesn’t move, doesn’t shift to let you in. “Why didn’t you?”

He shrugs, turning back to the skyline, his fingers gripping the railing. “I haven’t heard from you all week.”

The ache in your chest sharpens at his tone, a flicker of hope you hate sneaking in despite yourself. It’s always like this: just enough vulnerability to keep you tethered. You stop a few feet away, the space between you feeling like a canyon, impossible to bridge.

“This isn’t working,” you say, finally voicing the thought that’s been clawing at you for weeks. “Whatever this is. It’s not working, Bucky.”

He doesn’t react at first, just keeps staring out at the city, like it holds an answer he’s too afraid to look for. When he finally speaks, his voice is low and rough. “I know.”

The simplicity of his admission steals your breath. It’s not that you didn’t expect it. You did. You’ve been here before, standing on the edge of this same cliff, waiting for the inevitable fall.

“So why are we still here?” you ask, your voice trembling, tinged with a desperation you wish you could hide.

He exhales, dragging a hand through his hair. The motion is frustrated, exhausted, like he’s tired of his own indecision. “Because I don’t know how to stop,” he admits, his words cutting through the night air with brutal honesty.

You take another step closer, close enough to see the tension in his jaw, the way his knuckles turn white as he grips the railing. “Bucky,” you say, your voice soft but breaking. “I need more than this. I need to know if you’re ever going to stop running every time things get hard. Because I can’t keep waiting for you to figure it out.”

He turns to face you then, his blue eyes locking onto yours. There’s something in them—something raw and fragile and so heartbreakingly familiar. For a fleeting second, you think this is it. The moment he’ll finally tell you what you’ve been waiting to hear.

But then he looks away, his jaw tightening. “I don’t know if I can.”

The nausea hits you like a punch, twisting your stomach into knots. You take a shaky step back, wrapping your arms around yourself like it might keep you from falling apart. “Do you even want to try?”

His silence is deafening, an answer in itself.

You let out a bitter laugh, the sound hollow and sharp. “You’re unbelievable,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him. “I’m standing here, practically begging you to tell me you care, and you can’t even do that.”

“I care,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “You know I care.”

“Do I?” Your voice rises, anger bubbling to the surface, breaking through the pain. “Because it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it. You say you care, but you act like I’m something you can pick up and put down whenever it’s convenient for you.”

“Stop,” he says, his voice suddenly firm, his eyes snapping back to yours. There’s something desperate in his tone, something pleading that makes your breath hitch. “I don’t… I don’t know how to do this.”

“No, Bucky.” You shake your head, your voice trembling with fury and heartbreak. “You just don’t want to. And there’s a difference.”

The words hang between you, heavy and suffocating. He opens his mouth, like he’s about to say something, but then he stops. His eyes dart back to the city skyline, and you see it—the war he’s waging with himself, the battle between what he wants and what he’s too scared to reach for.

“Say something,” you whisper, your voice cracking under the weight of the moment. “Say anything.”

“I’m seeing someone,” he says suddenly, his hands gripping the railing so tightly you half expect it to snap. The words hit like a freight train, knocking the air from your lungs.

The world around you tilts. Your hands tremble as you take a step back. “Of course you are,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. The bitter laugh that follows feels like it belongs to someone else. “I’m done.”

You turn toward the sliding door, your heart pounding so hard it feels like it might shatter. Your hand trembles as you reach for the handle, pausing for just a second, hoping—praying—he’ll stop you. That he’ll fight.

But the silence stretches on, heavier and colder than the night air.

When you glance over your shoulder, he’s still standing there, staring down at the city like he’s already let you go.

Your throat tightens, but you force yourself to slide the door open and step back inside. The warmth of the apartment hits you like a slap, but it does nothing to ease the chill in your chest.

The door slides shut with a quiet thud.

And Bucky doesn’t follow.

You’d just moved into a new apartment, one that wasn't tainted with all the places he'd touched, places he'd been. It made things easier it wasn't the reason for your move but it helped. Natasha had decided you were both done unpacking for the night so naturally she had dragged you to a party. Steve’s place, of course. The apartment was alive with the energy of too many people crammed into too little space. Natasha had disappeared into a circle of friends near the kitchen, leaving you to nurse your drink in a corner. That’s when you noticed him.

Bucky.

He was leaning against the wall, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. Dark hair falling into his eyes, a leather jacket slung over his shoulder despite the heat of the crowded room. He didn’t see you at first, but when he did, his gaze lingered just long enough to make your pulse race.

You told yourself you wouldn’t approach him, but an hour later, you were pressed against the wall in Steve’s hallway, his lips trailing down your neck, his hands gripping your hips like he couldn’t get close enough. It was messy, impulsive, and thrilling.

“We probably shouldn’t,” you’d whispered, your breath catching as his mouth moved against your collarbone.

He’d laughed softly, his voice low and rough. “Yeah. Probably not.”

Neither of you stopped.

There were moments after that—moments that felt like everything you’d ever wanted. Late nights in his apartment, the room dimly lit by the glow of the city outside. He’d lie next to you, his fingers tracing absent patterns on your arm as you talked about everything and nothing.

He’d tell you about his childhood, the things he rarely told anyone. The weight of his past. And you’d listen, feeling like you were peeling back layers of him that no one else had ever seen.

“You don’t have to fix me,” he’d murmured once, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I like being around you.”

You’d smiled, brushing his hair back from his face. “I’m not trying to fix you, Bucky.”

And in those moments, you weren’t lying.

But then there were the other moments. The ones where he pulled away so fast it left you reeling.

You remember the first time he didn’t text you back. It wasn’t just hours—it was days. Days of overanalyzing every word you’d said to him the last time you saw him. Days of your stomach twisting every time your phone buzzed, only for it to not be him.

When he finally did text, it was so casual it made you want to scream.

“Hey. You good?”

No apology. No explanation. Just like that, he was back. And you let him back in because you didn’t know how not to.

And then there was the jealousy. The way you’d catch him talking to someone else at a party, his body language so open and inviting in a way it rarely was with you. You hated how it made you feel, the bitterness that bubbled up, the way you wanted to pull him aside and demand to know if he cared about you at all.

But you didn’t. You never did.

“Do you even want to move on?” Wanda asks, her tone soft but pointed. “Or is this just who you are now?”

You blink at her, her words cutting through the haze of your thoughts. “I don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

She sighs, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. “You deserve better, you know that, right?”

The door swings open, and Natasha walks in, dropping her bag on the counter. She gives you a look, one that’s equal parts sympathetic and exasperated.

“Let me guess,” she says, crossing her arms. “You’re thinking about him again.”

You don’t answer, but the way your jaw tightens is enough for her to roll her eyes. “You know he’s not good for you. Why do you keep doing this to yourself?”

“I don’t know,” you snap, harsher than you mean to. “Maybe because it’s not that simple.”

“Actually, it is,” Natasha retorts, her voice sharp. “You stop calling him. You stop answering when he calls. You stop letting him treat you like an afterthought.”

“Nat—” Wanda starts, her tone soothing, but Natasha holds up a hand.

“No, she needs to hear this.” She looks at you again, her expression softening just slightly. “I know you care about him. But caring about him isn’t enough if he doesn’t care about you the same way. At some point, you have to start putting yourself first.”

You glance away, her words hitting too close to home.

“I don’t get you,” you’d once said your voice trembling with frustration. “One minute you’re here, and it feels like—like maybe this could be something. And the next, you’re gone.”

He’d run a hand through his hair, pacing the room. “It’s not that simple.”

“Yes, it is, Bucky,” you’d said, your voice rising. “You either want me, or you don’t. So which is it?”

He’d stopped then, turning to look at you. And the look on his face—it wasn’t anger or indifference. It was fear.

“I don’t know,” he’d said finally, his voice breaking.

And that was the worst part.

“You’re spiraling,” Sam said. He wasn’t harsh about it, but he didn’t sugarcoat it either. “This isn’t love. It’s self-destruction.”

Even as you think it, your phone buzzes on the coffee table. The sound feels too loud in the quiet room, pulling everyone’s attention. You glance at the screen, and your heart skips when you see his name. Just his name—no message preview, no context, just him.

Wanda notices, her brow furrowing as she leans forward. “Don’t,” she says softly, but there’s a weight behind the word, a plea. “You’ll just end up back where you started.”

You stare at the screen, your thumb hovering over the notification. The silence in the room grows heavier, charged with unspoken tension. Your chest tightens as your mind races. It would be so easy. Just one tap, and he’d be there again. One tap, and you’d hear his voice, feel the pull that always brings you back.

“I just…” Your voice falters, your eyes flickering to Wanda and then to Sam, who watches you with a mix of concern and frustration. “What if this time it’s different?”

Sam lets out a bitter laugh, running a hand over his face. “You think this time is different? Come on. What’s he going to say that he hasn’t already said a hundred times before?”

“It’s not about what he says,” Wanda interjects, her voice gentle but firm. “It’s about what he does. And what has he done, really, except hurt you?”

You look back at the screen. The notification is still there, a glaring reminder of the mess you can’t seem to escape. Your thumb presses down slightly, not enough to open it but enough to feel the weight of the choice.

“But I love him,” you whisper. The words tumble out before you can stop them, raw and unfiltered.

Sam exhales sharply, standing up from the chair and pacing across the room. “Yeah, we know. Everyone knows. But does he love you? Because if he does, he’s got a real shitty way of showing it.”

You flinch at his tone, the harshness cutting through your defenses. “He does love me,” you say quietly, more to yourself than to him.

“Then where is he?” Sam snaps, turning to face you. “Why isn’t he here, fighting for you instead of blowing up your phone every time he feels lonely? Why is it always you doing the heavy lifting?”

Wanda places a hand on Sam’s arm, pulling him back gently. “Sam…”

“No, I need to say it,” he says, his voice softer now but still firm. “Love isn’t supposed to feel like this. It’s not supposed to feel like you’re drowning every damn day just to keep him afloat.”

The bar is too loud, too crowded, and too filled with memories of Bucky for you to feel at ease. But you’re here because it’s Steve’s birthday, and Natasha had insisted. And of course you came it was Steve.

You’re leaning against the bar, talking to a man you barely know. His smile is easy, his laugh smooth, and even though you’re trying to focus on him, you can feel Bucky’s eyes on you. From across the room, his gaze burns into your back, searing through your dress like a brand.

You glance over your shoulder, meeting his eyes for a split second. The tension in his jaw, the way his drink sits untouched in his hand—it’s the most emotion he’s shown all night. But it’s not enough to stop you.

If he wants to act like he doesn’t care, you’ll give him something to not care about.

The man beside you leans in, his hand brushing against your arm as he says something you don’t quite catch over the noise. You laugh, even though you barely hear the joke. You laugh because you know Bucky is watching.

It doesn’t take long for him to snap.

Before you realize what’s happening, his hand is on your wrist. Firm but not rough, his grip sends a jolt through you. “Let’s go,” he says, his voice low and clipped.

“Excuse me?” You pull back, glaring at him, but his grip doesn’t loosen.

“We’re leaving,” he says, not looking at you, not giving the man beside you so much as a glance.

“Bucky—” you start, but he’s already pulling you through the crowd, weaving between bodies with single-minded determination.

By the time you reach his apartment, you’re seething. He slams the door shut behind you, the sound echoing through the dimly lit space.

“What the hell is your problem?” you snap, crossing your arms.

“My problem?” he fires back, pacing across the room like a caged animal. “My problem is you acting like that guy meant anything to you!”

“Oh, and you would know what means something to me, right?” You take a step closer, your voice rising. “Because you’re so good at showing me how much I mean to you.”

He stops, his eyes narrowing. “Don’t turn this on me.”

“Why not? It’s always about you, isn’t it, Bucky? What you want, what you feel. You drag me into your mess every time, and I let you, because I—”

You stop yourself, your breath catching.

“Because you what?” he demands, his voice sharp.

“Because I care about you!” you yell, your chest heaving. “And all you ever do is hurt me for it.”

His face twists, like your words hit him somewhere deep. For a moment, you think he’s going to say something, that he’s going to explain or apologize or do something, but instead, he grabs a plate from the counter and hurls it against the wall. The sharp crash reverberates through the room, the pieces scattering across the floor like jagged confessions neither of you are ready to face.

You flinch at the sound, but the fire in your chest burns brighter, fueled by the chaos. “Oh, real mature, Bucky. Breaking dishes? That’s your solution? Just break things until you don’t have to feel anything anymore?”

He grabs another plate, his hand trembling as he grips it, his knuckles white. His voice breaks as he yells, “You think this is easy for me? You think I don’t know I’m screwing this up? That I don’t hate myself for it?”

“Then stop!” you shout back, your voice raw and cracking under the weight of it all. “Stop hurting me, stop dragging me back, stop—just stop!”

The plate shakes in his hand, and for a second, you think he’s going to throw it again. Instead, he slams it down on the counter with a hollow thud. His shoulders slump as he leans over it, his head bowed like he’s trying to hold himself together. His breathing is ragged, his hands gripping the edge of the counter so tightly you think it might break under the strain.

“I don’t know how,” he whispers finally, his voice so soft you almost don’t hear it. “I don’t know how to be what you need.”

The vulnerability in his voice slices through you, but it’s not enough. Not this time. The ache in your chest is unbearable, your heart breaking as you look at the man you love and realize he’ll never love you the way you need him to.

“Then let me go, Bucky,” you say, your voice trembling but resolute. “If you can’t give me what I need, let me go.”

He finally turns to face you, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “I can’t,” he says, his voice breaking like the plates he just shattered. “I don’t want to let you go.”

Your chest tightens, the pain twisting deeper with every word. “Aren’t you seeing someone?” you ask, your voice sharper than you intended.

He shakes his head, his jaw clenching. “She’s not you,” he says, his voice trembling. “They’re never you.”

The admission stuns you into silence for a moment. The tears you’ve been holding back spill over, hot and heavy. “Then why can’t you give me that, Bucky?” you whisper, your voice shaking with anger and grief. “Why can you give it to them but not to me? Why is it always me who’s left bleeding for you? It’s not fair—I give you everything! And you just take, take, take! What’s left of me after this?”

Your words hang between you, raw and unfiltered, and for a moment, he doesn’t respond. He doesn’t try to defend himself, doesn’t even try to apologize. He just stares at you, his eyes wide and desperate, like he’s drowning in the mess he’s made.

Then, without warning, he steps forward, grabbing your face in his hands. His touch is rough, almost frantic, his fingers trembling against your skin. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry.”

And before you can say anything, before you can even catch your breath, his lips crash into yours.

The kiss is desperate and messy, his tears mixing with yours as he pulls you closer like he’s afraid to let go. His hands shake as they cup your face, his lips pressing against yours with a fierceness that makes your knees weak.

You hate how easily you give in, how quickly your hands find their way to his chest, clutching at the fabric of his shirt like it’s the only thing keeping you upright. The anger and pain and longing all bleed together in that kiss, every unspoken word, every broken promise, every piece of you he’s taken without giving anything back.

When he pulls away, his forehead rests against yours, his breath warm and ragged against your skin. “But I can’t lose you. Please… don’t leave me.” He whispers his voice trembling

Your heart shatters all over again. “Okay”

Bucky’s hands tighten on your arms, his breath warm and uneven against your face. His lips hover just above yours, his eyes searching yours for something—permission, maybe, or forgiveness he doesn’t deserve. You don’t give it to him, but you don’t pull away either.

Instead, your hands move on their own, sliding up his chest and curling into the fabric of his shirt. The tension between you snaps like a live wire as he closes the distance again, his mouth crashing against yours with a desperation that leaves no room for hesitation.

The kiss deepens, his lips parting yours, his tongue brushing against yours in a way that sends heat pooling low in your belly. His hands roam down your sides, fingers gripping your hips like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. You press closer, your body molding to his as the frustration and anger between you melt into something darker, hotter, and infinitely more consuming.

Bucky backs you up until your hips hit the edge of the counter, the cool surface biting into your skin through the thin fabric of your dress. His hands slide up your thighs, his touch firm and deliberate as he lifts you onto the counter. You gasp against his mouth, your hands tangling in his hair as he steps between your legs, his body pressing against yours in all the right ways.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice rough and breathless. “If this isn’t what you want, tell me now.”

You pull back just enough to look at him, your chest heaving as you meet his gaze. His blue eyes are dark, filled with a mix of longing and uncertainty that tugs at something deep inside you. “Don’t stop,” you whisper, your voice trembling with need.

That’s all it takes. He grips the hem of your dress and pulls it up, his hands sliding over your thighs, rough and calloused against your skin. His lips trail down your neck, his stubble scraping lightly against you as he kisses the sensitive spot just below your ear. Your head tilts back, a soft moan escaping your lips as his hands and mouth make you forget every argument, every broken moment that led you here.

His fingers find the edge of your underwear, his touch teasing as he looks up at you, waiting. You nod, your breath hitching as he slides them aside, his fingers exploring with a skill that leaves you trembling. He watches you intently, his gaze locked on your face as he learns every reaction, every sound you make.

When his name slips from your lips, low and needy, it’s like something inside him snaps. He lifts you effortlessly, carrying you to the couch with a strength that leaves you dizzy. The world blurs around you, your focus narrowing to the feel of his body against yours, the weight of his hands, the intensity of his gaze.

“You’re all I think about,” he says, his voice raw as he settles over you. “Every damn day.”

You don’t answer. You can’t. The only response you can give is the way you arch into him, the way you pull him closer, needing him as much as he needs you. And when he finally joins you, it’s slow and deliberate, every movement designed to pull you deeper into the storm of him.

The morning light seeps through the curtains as you stand by his window, fully dressed, the quiet hum of the city below serving as your only company. Bucky is still asleep in the bed, his arm draped across the pillow where you had been just hours ago. You glance at him one last time, your heart clenching in your chest. For a fleeting moment, you consider crawling back into bed, letting yourself believe in the softness of this moment.

But you can’t.

You quietly grab your things and slip out the door, the sound of it clicking shut behind you feeling heavier than it should.

By mid-morning, you’ve buried yourself in mundane errands—anything to keep your mind from circling back to him. You’re at the farmer’s market now, weaving through the stalls of fresh produce and flowers, the air filled with the faint scent of lavender and bread. You clutch a tote bag tightly in your hand, trying to focus on the vibrant colors of the fruit in front of you.

You pick up an apple, turning it over in your hand absently. It’s almost enough to distract you from the ache still lodged in your chest. Almost.

Until you see him.

You freeze, the apple slipping from your grasp and thudding softly onto the wooden table in front of you. Your breath catches, and the world seems to narrow until it’s just him, standing only a few stalls away.

His dark hair catches the sunlight, and for a moment, it feels like nothing has changed, like the night before never ended. His eyes are locked on yours, wide and filled with a mix of emotions you can’t quite place—shock, guilt, something softer that makes your chest tighten painfully.

For a moment, it’s just the two of you, suspended in time. Everyone else around you fades into nothing, their chatter and laughter muffled like the background of a dream.

But then your gaze shifts.

To her.

The woman standing beside him.

Her hand is clasped firmly in his, their fingers intertwined in a way that feels too familiar, too intimate. She’s beautiful, her expression warm and open as she looks up at him, clearly unaware of the storm brewing between his gaze and yours.

Your stomach twists violently, and the apple you’d forgotten about rolls off the edge of the table and hits the ground.

Bucky’s face changes when he sees you notice her, his eyes softening with guilt, his mouth parting as if he wants to say something, anything. But he doesn’t.

He just stands there, holding her hand, while your chest caves in.

You swallow hard, your throat tight as you force yourself to look away, your vision blurring with unshed tears. You clutch your tote bag tighter and turn, walking away without another word.

You barely make it out of the market before the tears spill over. You wipe them away furiously, your hands trembling as you duck into a side street, out of view from the crowds.

The weight of his gaze lingers on your back, like a hand reaching out but never quite touching you. You can feel him watching you, but you don’t dare turn around. You can’t.

You stop for a moment, your chest heaving as you lean against the wall of a brick building. The morning sun feels too bright, the world too loud despite the hollow silence pounding in your ears.

He didn’t follow.

You told yourself you didn’t want him to, but the ache in your chest says otherwise.

When you glance back toward the market, just for a second, you see him standing at the edge of the stalls, his hand no longer in hers, his face etched with something that looks like regret.

But he doesn’t move.

And neither do you.

With a deep breath, you wipe your face one last time, adjust the strap of your tote bag, and walk away. The weight in your chest feels unbearable, but your feet keep moving anyway.

The apartment is quiet that night, the silence pressing down on you as you sit by the window, staring out at the city lights. You tell yourself you’re not waiting for him, but your phone sits beside you on the windowsill, the screen dark but heavy with possibilities.

It’s almost midnight when the buzz breaks the silence. You glance at the screen, your heart stopping when you see his name.

The message is simple. “Please, can we talk? I miss you…I’m sorry”

[lanabuckybarnes]

| Dinner Distraction |

18+ Minors DNI

Dinners with Bucky’s clients can be mind numbingly boring. After trying your hardest to be good for him the lack of entertainment is getting to you, all you need is to gome with your husband but hes making it hard for you. So you play the only way you know how.

✧Pairing✧ Mafia Boss!Bucky x Wife!Reader

✧Warnings✧ alcohol consumption, Brat!Reader, Public teasing, Voyeurism (not really but to be sure), Bondage, Rope tying, Collar, Punishments, Alluding to spanking, Masturbation (M), DIrty talk, Daddy kink, Name calling, Degrading, Humilation (itty bitty), [Petnames; Dove, Angel, Whore, Brat, Baby] — I believe that is all, any more that you find please let me know so that I can add them onto this list.

✧Word Count✧ 1.5K

✧Author Note✧ The writers block has been hitting me hard so i really hope this is up to scratch because ya boy has been struggling to enjoy her own writing lmao. Also please forgive any mistakes as I have skimmed over this — I may look at it again later and fix them or I might just leave it. Who knows.

You knew you shouldn’t have, you were playing with fire. Bucky’s meals were extravagant and over the top but extremely important to his business, a long table full of men and their ladies all wishing to discuss deals and arrangements with your husband. But to you, they were like watching paint dry. You downed your third wine listening to incredibly dull trips to the Maldives or men competing passive aggressively for the title of wealthiest idiot at the table.

By the time dessert rolled around you could’ve cried due to lack of entertainment, not even Bucky’s conversation was keeping you satisfied and with no excitement seemingly on the horizon you took matters into your own hands.

“Buck” you trill into your husband’s ear, trailing manicured nails up the thickness of his thigh before he rests his veiny hand on top of it halting your path to the finishing line between his legs. The brunette turned, flashing you a soft pearly white smile and kissing your cheek, murmuring about how beautiful you looked. Just when you thought you had your man’s attention he averted his gaze back to the balding man and his much younger bride. The things money could buy

You huff, a teeny kiss wasn’t good enough. You’d have to pull out the big guns.

“Bucky” you whine in his ear, making sure your lips brushed over the shell. With a quick look at the man, he excused himself from the conversation and turned to you again.

“What is it dove?”

The sound of his deep voice rumbling out the petname sent an involuntary shiver down the length of your body.

“I’m bored”

“It won’t be too much longer Angel, then we’ll take you home alright?” He chuckles at the way you bat your eyelashes at him, your lips pushed out in a soft pout which he gladly kisses.

No, it was definitely not alright. You wanted to go home and have fun with your man now, not in an hour. With the way Gemma kept prattling on about her one hundred thousand dollar ring you were sure you wouldn’t even be cognitive enough to breathe in an hour much less do what you wanted alone with Bucky.

“But-“

His blue eyes steeled quickly, his hand squeezing yours with a looming threat,

“No buts Dove, I’m warning you.”

Bucky should’ve known you weren’t one to heed his warnings, he’d spanked your ass raw enough times for him to know that you simply did not care for his threats — in fact, you quite enjoyed the feeling of his handprint on your ass. So why would you listen to him now?

You waited until his guard was down, sipping your drink silently, pretending to listen in on another conversation while he immersed himself back in his. He didn't bat an eye when you moved your laced hands from his lap into yours, your thumb tracing over the webbing veins.

He almost choked when his fingers dipped into something wet and hot, your thighs securing around his wrist telling him all he needed to know. He stood up so quickly that his chair almost fell, startling the guests around him. His hand grabbed at your arm, slick digits pressing into it almost painfully but you only smirked. You were getting what you wanted.

“Sorry for the suddenness but my wife…” he glared over at you, the muscles in his cheek twitching sad he clenched his jaw tight, “isn’t feeling too good. My assistant will reach out to you all about our agreements and the date for our next meal.”

With a wave he commanded all of his men out of the restaurant, each suited man making their way to the blacked-out SUVs parked outside. You stumbled as he dragged you along, his hand dropping to your ass and squeezing tight.

“You are such a fucking little whore, just you wait” It should’ve been embarrassing how wet you got at his growl. The ride home was tense and silent, you remained as still as the air around you, fearing that a single movement would bring about Bucky’s wrath in the backseat of the car. Not that you would’ve minded but you liked the old driver too much to put him through something like that.

Everything blurred as the car parked outside the house, Bucky slipping out first before helping you out too. He dragged you quickly to the huge master bedroom and rummaged around the closet for a box. You gulped at its sight, it could only mean one thing.

You whine, tugging on the pretty pink rope tied expertly around your wrists and thighs, keeping them closed. The rope makes sure your wrists are tied to the length of rope around your thighs so that you can’t touch yourself or Bucky. The bell on your collar rings softly as you lurch a little closer to the man not even a foot away from you.

His legs cage you into your chair, spread wide leading up towards his leaking cock, freed from its confines and dribbling profusely over his navy slacks. He doesn’t seem to care about soiling himself though, his bored eyes bore into you, one hand rests against the side of his head while the other drums against the hardwood of the chair.

“So desperate” he tuts, chastising you for squirming around under his eyes. His thigh knocks into your knee when you move around again.

“Sit still brat. You wanted this, the second you opened that slutty mouth you were begging for it.” He chuckles darkly as you hang your head at the nickname, hiding the deep blush on your cheek and glossy, lust-filled eyes. Bucky had spent years studying you, he could read you like a book; your body may as well have been his own he knew it that well.

The brunette gripped your cheeks in a bruising vice, forcing you to look up at him with pouted lips. Your faces were so close that your nose brushed against his, whining deep in your throat bubbling forth at the minimal contact.

“You keep those fucking eyes on me, at all times. Or I’ll bring out the paddle” he warns and you whimper at the thought. A long dark leather paddle Bucky only used when you misbehaved, he knew you hated it with a passion, not because it hurt but because it didn't have the right shape — you much preferred Bucky’s handprint against your cheek than that thing.

“Aww, don't want the paddle?” He mocks, pouting his lips before laughing and pushing you back into the chair by your face. “You better behave then slut.”

He groans as his big hand wraps around his length, sucking his lip into his mouth at the little pleads and whimpers you let out when he began to jerk himself slowly, almost too slowly but he knew how much you hated it when he played with himself. Especially if you couldn’t help.

“Da-“ you mewl, slumping into your seat when the only response you receive is a sharp grunt as his hand twisted over his raging red tip.

“Fuck baby feels so good. Wish it was your hand — mmm yeah. But bad girls don't get what they want, do they? And I know you fucking want this.” He continued cursing and moaning. His hips thrust up to meet his hand, his eyes squeezing shut and his head lulling back.

“You soaking that fucking chair angel hm? Bet you are, don't even try shaking that head — not that you could — you’re too busy drooling for daddy’s cock ain’t you?” He smiles wickedly at the soft slurping sound you made when you realised you were actually drooling for him.

“Daddy need you please, I’m sorry for teasing you but I was so bored and horny. Needed you so bad…please” you beg, your eyes wide and tits jumping as you bounced in desperation on the chair. Bucky had never met a bigger cock slut, your whimpering and begging shooting straight to his balls, sending him over the edge.

“Ohh shit, fuckfuckfuckfuck” he continued to fist his cock as white-hot pleasure seeped into his veins and out his dick, spurting all over his hand. You sob, mouth opened instinctively but you couldn’t taste it. That’s what you got for being a bad girl.

Bucky wasted no time, standing and making his way to the bathroom. When he returned he was completely clean, save for the stain on his slacks. You wanted to cry at all the cum he wasted when you could’ve had it. Your husband's hand settled on the top of your head, his worst soft and almost intelligible as he cooed his praises.

“There we go angel you did so good” you preen at his sweet nothings, nuzzling your head into him. “But daddy’s still gotta teach you a lesson okay?” With a swift tug, the ropes fell from around your wrists and thighs. He gave you a little minute to rub any pain from them before ordering you around again.

“Turn around, hands on the back of the chair and stick that pretty little ass out for me” he spoke, grunting at the sight of you sitting all obediently, one of his hands spread your cheek wide, giving him the perfect view of your creamy folds.

“Such a horny little baby. That’s alright Daddy will help soon.”

I DO NOT give permission to have my work copied, translated or reposted. If you see my work anywhere else except this page i have not given consent for it to be used.

Comments, Reblogs, Likes and Asks are always appreciated, however if you like this fix please consider reblogging to help it reach a wider audience. They let me know that you are enjoying what i read and give me motivation to write more.

[cattordi]

a/n did y’all miss me??? writing this in class 🤗 so enjoy. honestly felt like i write absolutely too much abt absolutely nothing

summary you get a flat tire on the way to a party and on top of that you’re in the middle of nowhere so you call bucky to help you

pairings brothersbestfriend!mechanic!bucky barnes x collegestudent!reader

warnings smut , breeding, praise, not proofread, choking, foul language, arguing?,a bit of fluff etc. 18+ MINORS DNI

don’t test me

“only this would happen to me” you groan before pulling your car over in the absolute middle of nowhere.

you were on the way to a spring break party but clearly the universe had other plans. getting out of your car, you walk around to check out the damage.

low and behold, a flat tire.

“no fucking way.” you whisper. you were miles away from a gas station or any sort of place other people were. grabbing your phone from your back pocket of your jean shorts, you scroll through your contacts finding your brothers name.

you place the phone to your ear and sit for a bit letting it ring.

and ring.

and ring. until finally you’re sent to voicemail.

what the fuck?

you hesitate as you keep scrolling through your contacts looking at other options of help; until you finally reach that one person.

bucky.

your least favorite human to ever walk the earth but you could never deny how he made you feel sometimes.

the man was good with his words, you have to admit it.

only problem was, he was your brothers best friend and also a dick.

pressing the call button, you wait as the phone rings.

“please pick up, plea-“

“hey y/n, what’s up?” he says and there’s shuffling in the background.

“hey, i’m sorry to bother.”

no you aren’t.

“i got a flat tire and i need help changing it. if you can’t that’s fi-“

“where are you?”

“in the middle of nowhere.”

“what the hell? get in your car and send me your location. i’ll be there in 15.”

knowing you’re at least 30 minutes out of town, you comply and wait.

after what feels like 20 years, bright head lights blind you from behind and you sit up in your car. your drivers side door flies open and a pissed bucky stares at you.

“you could’ve at least locked the door y/n. hell you could’ve gotten murdered.”

rolling your eyes you get out, “didn’t think anyone would even be out here at this time of night.”

“don’t start with your attitude.” he begins while pulling a car jack out his truck, “i’m not in the mood.”

“whatever.”

“why are you even out here this late?”

“what are you my dad?”

“no but i’m your brothers best friend and i have the right to know.”

“it’s none of your busines.” you say and glare at him.

“tell me.”

“no.”

“y/n..” he basically growls at you.

“no.”

“i swear if you don’t tell me.”

you can see the frustration in his face so to be a brat, you keep going.

“i was going to get fucked.” you say and try not to laugh.

visible jealousy crosses his face and he stands from his squatted position. “you what?”

“i was going to have sex? is that a prob-“ you begin but are cut off by a hand around your throat.

“you know that pisses me off, so why keep pushing it? hm?” he hums the last part, “you tryna get to me darling?”

you do the best you can to nod as pleasure filled tears brim your eyes.

this is what you always wanted from him.

his metal hand slims into your shorts finding your clit. “do you want me to take you in my truck?”

you nod and his eyes go dark, taking a bit of the pressure off your throat.

if anyone passed by, you’re sure the police would be called.

“use your words.”

“yes.”

“good job baby.”

you both walk to his truck, him following behind you.

he opens the door to the back for you and you hop in immediately filled with even more excitement.

as soon as he closes the door behind the two of you, his lips attack yours. though you’re in such a small space it feels just right for the two of you.

pulling at your shorts, bucky unbuttons them and pulls them down with your underwear.

he takes notices of the wet spot on your panties and chuckles. “so wet for me already.”

his hand slids between your folds; coating every inch of you before two fingers slide in.

you gasp at the stretch and his pace only gets faster. “you feel so tight around my fingers baby.”

“i’m gonna cum.”

he stops and you’re immediately pissed off. “why’d you stop?”

“i want you to cum when i’m you.”

you hadn’t notice his jeans were down but his dick caught your full attention,

and my lord was it big.

“it’s not gonna fit.”

“oh it will. lay back for me.” he says calmly all the while, lining up at your entrance.

the anticipation wears off as soon as he slams in you and begins moving. the truck fills with sounds of moans and skin slapping.

“you’re so tight, i love it.” he says and his strokes become faster.

“you’re so big.” you say in between moans. “i’m getting so close.”

“you’re doing so well,” he begins and leans down to kiss you, “you take me so well.”

you’re getting closer and closer to coming everytine he hits your sweet spot and it couldn’t feel any better. “harder please.” you moan and he complies immediately, thrusting into you.

“i’m gonna cum.” you say and at that moment his thumb finds your clit and rubs big meaningful circles.

“my lord darling, you feel so good around me. it’s taking everything in me not to cum right now.”

he continues to thrust into you getting you closer and closer to what you both desire. “i’m cumming bucky.”

“i feel you darling, keep going. you’re squeezin’ me so tight.” he begins and you continue to cum around his cock,”i’ve waited for this for long baby.”

yours moans get louder as when grabs your legs and puts him on his shoulder, making his thrust hit a different spot inside of you. “y/n..” he moans, “fuck you’re making me fun babydoll.”

with that, his continues his fast thrust hitting your g-spot repeatedly till he comes.

warm spurts of cum fill you as his thrust slow down and eventually come to a halt. “holy fuck that was the best sex i’ve had in a long time..” you say while trying to catch your breath.

“you wanna go again?”

[sosa2imagines]

You, me and Vegas!

Story came out on Sebastian Stan's birthday. 13th August.

The story follows Bucky and Peach, two people who accidentally got married in Las Vegas after a night of too much alcohol. Despite the drunken mistake, they decide to annul the marriage. Bucky and Peach navigate their lives, pursuing their dreams and growing closer each day. The drunken marriage turns out to be a strange but fortunate beginning to their love story.

New Chapter every second or third day.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Part 16 (Epilogue)

✅ Complete.

[emocutiepie]

I’m going to cum so hard.

His hands 🤭

[ccbsrmsf1]

Flufftober Day 20 | Spooky celebration

Pairing | Sebastian Stan x Female!Reader

Word count | 2.2K

Summary | You moved to the U.S. not too long ago, and this year will be your first Halloween celebration there. When your friend Sebastian finds out you’ve never celebrated it, he's taking out all the stops to make your first Halloween a spooky celebration to never forget.

Warning(s) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. RPF, Reader is Dutch but lives in the U.S., friends to lovers, mutual pining, use of pet names (Pumpkin, Trouble), flirting, very light angst, implied smut.

Prompt(s) | 20. Pumpkin | @flufftober

A/n | As someone who has never celebrated Halloween before (Hi, welcome to my side of the world 🇳🇱), I couldn't resist writing a Halloween story with some of the most cliché things because this would be my absolute dream. This is written for day 20 of my Flufftober 2023 Challenge, and I hope you will all enjoy this as much as I did when writing it 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 🧡

Divider is made by @cafekitsune | GIF credit to the owner

Main Masterlist | Sebastian Stan Masterlist | Flufftober Masterlist

Ever since you told Sebastian you've never celebrated Halloween before, he's insisted on celebrating together and giving you an unforgettable first Halloween in the U.S.

That's exactly how you found yourself at his house this morning, decked out in an all-black outfit, combined with your Halloween sweatshirt that had Sebastian laughing loudly when he opened the door for you.

''Mornin' Pumpkin,'' he says as he pulls you in for a hug, and you can't help but fist your hands into the back of his Halloween hoodie.

''Good morning, Trouble,'' you say when he finally lets you go, though you wish you could have stayed in his arms for just a little longer.

''Ready to have the best Halloween celebration of your life?!'' he asks, and you're immediately excited. Sebastian's enthusiasm is slowly catching on to you, and you couldn't be happier to be here with him, having the best of times together.

You did feel a little bad when he told you he blew off plans with his other friends to be with you today, but what you don't know is that he'd much rather be here with you, the girl he has had a massive crush on ever since somebody introduced you to him a few months ago.

''So, will you tell me what we will do today? Aside from trick-or-treating, of course,'' you say, because that's the only thing Sebastian has confirmed. You both picked out a costume for tonight, but the rest of the day would be a surprise.

He looks at you for a second and contemplates telling you, but instead, he grabs your hand and leads you to the kitchen for your first activity of the day. ''Why don't you come along and find out?''

As soon as his fingers intertwine with yours, your heart skips a beat or two, and Sebastian feels a slight shock of electricity shooting through him at the feeling that makes him smirk in a way you can't help but love.

When the two of you walk into the kitchen, you can see a lot of different ingredients to make Halloween treats. He has also chosen some fun recipes to make together, which are nicely displayed on the counter.

''So, we could start by making some of our treats that we could munch on throughout the day. I picked many recipes from cookies to cake pops and some hearty options if that's more your thing,'' he says as your eyes glide over the ingredients.

''Oh, you bought peanut butter cups!'' you say enthusiastically and grab one to eat right away; these are some of your favorite candies you have discovered ever since moving to the U.S.

Sebastian already misses your touch as soon as you let go of his hand, but the way his heart flutters at the sight of you being happy with something as simple as some chocolate.

''What shall we make first?'' you ask with your mouth still half full, and the laugh that escapes Sebastian's chest sets your insides on fire. You secretly wish you could hear him laugh like that daily, but for now, you're soaking up every minute of attention he's willing to give you.

You look through the recipes until you suddenly feel Sebastian stand behind you, and your breath hitches slightly when he places his hands on your upper arms. You squeeze your eyes shut while trying to keep your composure, though it's not as easy.

''You can pick whatever you want to make, Pumpkin; it's your first Halloween after all,'' he whispers in your ear, and his warm breath against your ear makes goosebumps erupt all over your neck.

''H-how about some spooky cookies?'' you say, your voice slightly shaky from the closeness of Sebastian, though you're trying to convince it doesn't mean anything. You're just friends, nothing more.

''Sounds perfect,'' he says before walking to the counter and getting all the necessary ingredients; he'd already laid out everything, so it was done within no time.

The two of you have spent a significant amount of time in the kitchen by the time it's 3 PM, but you two have made a whole load of delicious treats, from cookies to cupcakes and from cake pops to Jello shots.

''Right, everything is clean, so what is our next activity?'' you ask, and you pop one more peanut butter cup into your mouth as you look at Sebastian, giving him a shy smile as you catch him staring at you.

''W-what?'' he says, his cheeks turning bright red as he knows you've caught him admiring your soft features.

''You're living up to your nickname, aren't you, Trouble? I asked what our next activity is,'' you say with a chuckle, and suddenly, it's like a light turns on in Sebastian's head.

''Oh, right! Pumpkin carving!'' he exclaims happily before running outside and getting the two pumpkins he picked out by hand, perfect for your first time carving a pumpkin.

He plops them down on the kitchen counter before running to his pantry, where he's getting two pumpkin carving kits—a green one for himself and a pink one for you.

''Here's your very own kit with everything you could ever need to carve your pumpkin,'' he says, and you happily take it from him before sitting on a stool by the counter, ready to carve.

When Sebastian takes his place next to you, you can't help but scoot your chair just a little closer, wanting to be as close to Sebastian as possible while still having room to carve. At that moment, a thought creeps into your head that you can't seem to let go of.

''Are you sure you'd rather be here with me than celebrate Halloween with your other friends? I know you said you're okay with just me, but-'' Sebastian doesn't let you finish your thought.

''Pumpkin, please listen to me when I say this, okay? There is not a single place in this world where I'd rather be than right here by your side. I'm honored to share your first Halloween with you, and I'm not letting anything get in the way,'' he says.

To emphasize his point, he grabs your face as he says that, and his hands feel warm on your skin, instantly making you melt into his touch. He brings your face to him before kissing your forehead softly.

Your eyes flutter shut as his lips press on your skin, and you can't help but smile widely. It feels like you've never done anything else, and it melts every last fear and anxiety away.

The rest of the afternoon is spent carving your pumpkins. Where you went for a standard jack-o-lantern design, Sebastian gave it a funny face, and you have rarely laughed so hard as you did when he finally showed you his result.

By the time dinner time rolls around, you're getting pretty hungry despite having snacked on some of the treats you made earlier.

''Shall we order some take-out and watch a scary movie?'' Sebastian offers, and you'd love to do just that.

''How about pizza? I wouldn't mind sharing one if you're up for it,'' you offer, and Sebastian agrees immediately. The pizza is ordered within less than ten minutes, and now it's time to get settled onto the couch together.

''I have taken the liberty to choose a movie for today, but I'm sure you'll love it,'' Sebastian says as he plops down on the couch, followed by you on his side.

As Sebastian places his arm on the couch's backrest, you take your place and snuggle into his side, a blanket spread over both your laps and your head resting against his shoulder.

''Are you comfortable, Pumpkin?'' he asks, and with a soft sigh and a barely audible 'yes,' he wraps his left arm around your shoulders, his thumb rubbing circles on your upper arm.

Neither of you had planned this, but as soon as you find your place, you're very comfortable, and Sebastian isn't complaining either. Well, except that he might be enjoying it too much. Thank God for thick blankets, he thinks to himself.

He turns on the first Saw movie, and it doesn't take long for you to bury your head in his chest, only looking out of the corner of your eye. You've never enjoyed these movies, though you're happy to have Sebastian as your protector now.

When the suspense gets thicker, the doorbell suddenly rings, and you jump up, shrieking loudly as you get scared by the sound, and Sebastian can't help but laugh uncontrollably.

''Asshole!'' you whisper shout as he quickly gets up and goes to pay the delivery guy for the pizza. You've already got two plates and drinks for dinner by the time he's back, though he doesn't seem even remotely sorry for his action earlier.

''You know you love me, Pumpkin,'' he says, but you can't help but get flustered as he tells you those words. You quickly turn your gaze away before sitting down, getting a slice of pizza, and getting ready to finish the movie.

When the pizza is gone, the movie is also finished, and you have found your earlier spot by Sebastian again, though this time your legs are lying over his, and you are very comfortable.

''We should get changed for trick-or-treating, Pumpkin. It's the most important part of the night!'' Sebastian says after the two of you just sat there in silence and cuddled for a little while, enjoying each other's company.

It takes a little while for the two of you to be changed and ready to go out together. You've decided to dress up as Hermione Granger from Harry Potter, and Sebastian has opted to go as Professor Severus Snape.

''You look outstanding!'' you tell Sebastian as he walks down the stairs after getting entirely dressed in the other outfit, so when you're ready, you two get out the door and on your way for your first-ever trick-or-treat experience.

It definitely did not disappoint, but by the time you're back, you are practically shivering from the cold, so as soon as you're back inside, Sebastian grabs you in his arms and cuddles you tightly until you're all warmed up.

''Let's change into something more comfortable, and I'll make a campfire outside. We can bring our treats and something warm to drink to warm up a little,'' he offers, and you happily agree.

''Trouble? Could I borrow some of your sweatpants? I didn't bring any since I didn't think I'd need them,'' you say, and before you know it, you're sitting outside with Sebastian, being warmed by the fire. He turned on some soft background music, and the evening could not end in a better way. Or so you think.

''Pumpkin?'' Sebastian suddenly asks, and you look up at him with curiosity in your eyes.

''Would you have this dance with me? I've always dreamt of dancing by the fire, and there's not a single person I'd rather dance with than you,'' he says, a red color creeping onto his cheeks.

''I'd be honored to,'' you say, and you get up, grabbing Sebastian's stretched-out hand, and he pulls you close. Your breath hitches slightly as your front is pressed against his, but you can't get enough of him. It will never be close enough.

The two of you sway back and forth; your head is resting against his chest, and you can hear him letting out a content sigh right now. The two of you stay like this until you feel Sebastian's hand move up.

His hand slides over your back and shoulder, softly caressing the skin on your neck before cupping your cheek and tilting your head backward slightly.

Your heart starts hammering in your chest as you see the look in his eyes, and his eyes flick from your eyes to your lips and back up to yours.

''Can I kiss you?'' he asked, barely audible, but it was just enough for you to hear, and after a slight nod, you closed the distance between the two of you. Your lips press against his slowly, tenderly, and it feels nothing short of perfect.

He tilts his head to the right before asking for access by swiping his tongue over your bottom lip, and almost as if you're on autopilot, your lips part so your tongues can dance together in a passionate kiss.

A soft moan leaves your lips when his teeth nibble ever so slightly on your bottom lip, and you're already missing him when he pulls away.

''I can't tell you how long I've wanted to do that,'' he says, and the smile you flash him tells him all he needs to know. He placed his mouth on yours again before leaning down and grabbing the backs of your thighs to lift you.

When he pulls back, he looks at you with a question in his eyes, and you assure him you want this, too. The rest of the night, you spend every last second exploring each other's bodies and making love until the sun returns.

You would be now if you weren't already in love with this man. Your first Halloween ever has also turned into your favorite one, and it's all thanks to Sebastian.

[lex-is-up-all-night-to-get-bucky]

@animavelita over on tiktok has me all up in my unholy thoughts

[rogersideup]

｡°✩ ♊︎ The Gemini♊︎ ✩ °｡

Chapter 10

May 20th

Series masterlist

Previous part: Star Crossed Lover

Word Count: 11,175

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI. Allusions of sex, mentions of violence, and abuse recovery.

After a long hot shower, Steve stood in front of the bathroom sink. With nothing but a towel around his waist and his bathroom door wide open to let out the trapped steam, he very carefully inspected his face through the still semi- foggy mirror as he shaved.

Often times he hated the hassle of being clean shaven, and wished he could get away with having a beard- or even just some stubble again without people making weird comments about it. But if the masses felt safer with a less hairy version of Cap, who was he to not give the people what he wanted?

Eventually he got lost in how silly it was that the avengers appearances meant so much in regard to how the public perceives them, but the sound of his front door unlocking and opening pulled him right back.

"Hey, Love Bug!" Steve happily called out to you.

Blissfully unaware of what you were going to walk into, you saw the reflection of a half naked super soldier through the bathroom mirror the moment you entered his soapy smelling apartment.

The closest you had ever gotten to even seeing the man shirtless was if he reached to grab something up high or stretched and his shirt would rise to reveal an inch or two of his lower belly, so the sight of water still dripping down his pecs caused a totally normal reaction.

A high pitched screech and the sound of your hand slapping over your eyes caused Steve to physically jolt, then nearly hunch over in a booming laugh when he turned to look at you.

Standing in your Avengers suit with rosy skin, and a big smile stretched across your cheeks, you started fanning your face. "I thought you said you were almost ready! I wouldn't have barged in here had you not texted me 10 minutes ago saying that!"

"Do I not look almost ready to you?" Steve's laugh prevailed at your reaction, motioning up and down at his towel covered body.

"Almost ready to be a Baywatch lifeguard? Maybe. Go on a mission? Absolutely not." You continued with a loud voice and defensive hand motions. "Your hair is still wet!"

"It'll dry" He shrugged with a giggle. "I just need to put my suit on, it'll take two minutes."

"Is it hot in here?" You questioned, going back to fanning your face with your hand. "Or is it just you?"

Now it was Steve's turn to blush. "I don't know, it started getting pretty hot when you walked in"

"You know what? That was pretty smooth for you." You said, feeling proud of him for finally being brave enough to flirt. You dropped your duffle by the door,  "Good job, Stevenson. I'm proud."

He watched you stride into his bedroom, getting closer to where he stood. Happy with the distance closing and assuming you would be greeting him with a hug, or maybe even a kiss if he was really lucky, a pout settled deep into his lips and brows as you belly flopped onto his bed instead.

"What the hell, man?" Steve questioned sadly.

You looked over at him, momentarily confused. He crossed his arms around his chest as you tried to understand what you did to elicit this response from him.

"Now I'm freezing cold." He joked playfully, looking at himself in the mirror again and grabbing a tube of hair balm and squeezing some onto his fingers.

Realizing what you had done, you got up from the bed and wrapped your arms around him from behind as he spread the product into his freshly washed dirty-blonde locks. Feeling the soft, warm skin of his tummy on the palms of your hands was a feeling you knew would be highly addictive. Your cheek rested on his smooth back and you let out a content sigh. "Hi, Stevie. I missed you."

"I missed you too" Steve grinned, rinsing the excess product off his hands under the faucet and patting them dry before placing his hands on your arms. "It's so warm and lovely here, huh?"

"It's perfect" you agreed with a smile. Rocking up on your tippy toes to look over his shoulder and into the mirror, you took a selfish moment to admire the parts of him you've never seen before.

There was a lot of effort on your end to keep the drool inside your mouth as your eyes inspected his broad shoulders and strong chest. "You have beautiful eyes."

"Thank you, pretty girl." Steve giggled at your statement as he could see clear as day that you definitely weren't looking at his eyes. "First time in your new suit, huh? It looks great!"

"It feels great too, so much more comfortable than my old one." You told him, regretfully releasing him from your arms and finding your way back to his bed and sitting crisscrossed on top of it.

“And your first Avengers mission! It's a big day." Steve left the bathroom and started gathering all the pieces of his suit. "Are you nervous?"

"Considering it's just us two on the mission, I'm not as nervous as I think I would be if it was with the whole team." You explained. "But I always get a just a little nervous before missions."

"I get that too, the jitters." Steve scrunched up his nose. "I'm extra nervous for this one"

"Why? It should be easy peasy!" You rationalized.

"I've seen your mission stats and felt first hand how hard you hit, you intimidate me." Steve admitted with a giggle. "I have to be on my best behavior to try and keep up with you."

"Are you actually insane?" You questioned, raising an eyebrow. "You're Captain America you dumb bitch, nobody can ever compare to you. I'm the one that has to work extra hard here."

Stopping in place, Steve gasped and placed an offended hand over his heart. "What did you just call me?"

"Captain America?"

"No, the other thing."

"Oh, a dumb bitch!" You said happily.

"How dare you" Steve joked, shaking his head. His eyes stayed on all the pieces of his suit that were lying on the bed, next to where you were sitting.

"I'm offended that you even had that thought."

"You're offended that I think you're good at what you do?" Steve quipped.

"Do I need to remind you again that you're Captain America?" You asked, pointing to the star on the suit next to you. "Maybe if you put that on you'll finally remember."

"I do need to put that on." Steve agreed with you, still standing and hovering over the suit.

"So why aren't you?" You asked.

"I'm really shy" Steve whispered to you, emphasizing his point.

"Oh, now you're shy!" You chuckled, turning around to face the opposite direction and covered your eyes with the palms of your hands. "I promise I won't look."

"I'll be fast!" Steve declared. A smile spread on your face as you heard his towel hit the ground, happily knowing he trusted you enough to not take a peek, but also imagining him scrambling to get into his clothes as fast as he could.

There were a few moments when all you heard was fabric rustling, then you heard a few sounds of struggle. "You okay back there? Sounds like you're fighting the uniform instead of fighting in the uniform."

"Either I'm getting bigger or these pants are getting smaller because I swear every time I put them on it's a workout just to get my ass in them" Steve admitted, voice straining as he was stuffing, pulling, and stretching. Then, you heard a zipper and a buckle. "Okay, mission accomplished, you will no longer be traumatized if you look."

You laughed at his commentary and turned back around, all he managed so far was his pants, but he was more dressed than he was in the towel. "I think those pants are the perfect size for your butt."

Luckily, slipping his undershirt over his head shielded his pink cheeks from you. "That implies that you're looking at my butt."

"I'm looking at your pants, they just so happen to be right in front of your butt. That's not my fault." You corrected. "And even if I was ogling at your cheeks, you've seen mine as bare as the day I was born so I think it's only fair."

"I saw all the places the sun don't shine" More zippers, more buttons, more buckles, more pieces, "I never said there was anything wrong with sneaking a peek."

"So you're not that shy after all" You grinned.

"Did you look over the mission briefing?" Steve asked, trying to change the topic of conversation away from his butt.

"Of course I did, like a good little agent"

"Avenger" Steve corrected happily with a lopsided smile.

"Avenger." You agreed, watching him put on his fingerless gloves.

"And thank you, that makes my job easier. So you know-"

"12 hours to get in, secure the payload, take out the traitors, destroy enemy lines, get out. We'll have a little sleepover in Colorado, we'll be home by noon tomorrow. Easy peasy!"

"Very good, most of the avengers don't pay attention to any of that information unless I verbalize it to them." Steve giggled, attaching his shield to his back after putting on his boots. "The terrain will have high elevation so we might get have a pretty big increase in altitude, it'll also be really cold- if not snowing. Are you prepared for that?"

"I checked the weather and packed accordingly."

"Ugh, I love you." Steve sighed, so happy to finally have a teammate he didn't have to babysit.

"I love you too." You giggled, standing up knowing it was time to go.

"Ready to head out?" Steve asked, walking towards the door.

Following behind him, you stop him at the door. "Wait!"

"What's wrong?" He asks with an adorably confused and concerned face.

You rocked up on your tippy toes and gave him a quick kiss. "Sorry, just needed to get that out of my system before we left."

Steve smiled. "You shouldn't be saying sorry, I should be saying thank you."

His dead serious tone made you laugh as he picked up both your duffles at the door while you opened it. "Get in the Jet, Twinkles, we have crime to fight!"

"Yes, Ma'am!"

Over the past few weeks, all of the avengers have been a substantial part of your successful and smooth transition onto the team, but especially Steve. There wasn't one scary step you had to take where he wasn't right next to you metaphorically, or physically holding your hand.

Through extensive paperwork, doctor's appointments, media training, and press conferences, he was right there to help you through it. Whether it was covering your shivering body with warm, fluffy blankets after having a fever from getting multiple rare vaccines just in case you had to travel to all sorts of different places around the world, or practicing answers to common questions the press loved to shout out to speakers at conferences, he was happy to guide you down the right paths.

After giving your face a few days to heal from the attack, you were getting slathered in thick layers of concealer and foundation before Tony introduced the general public to you, the newest Avenger. That day in particular was hard.

You were nearing a full blown panic attack while sitting in a hair and makeup chair. The makeup artist struggled at first to cover the fresh scars on your face, and you were so wrapped up in your own head about the public's reaction to you that your mom who sat in the audience, came back in the green room just to hold your hand and remind you of how great you were.

Though your Mom was one of your biggest comforts throughout your entire life, nothing compared to the calmness that washed over you when Steve entered the room. He sat right next to your mom as the stylist finished up your hair, and talked you through how the next hour of your life would go, and reminded you that he would be right in the front row next to your mom for support.

Their bright smiling faces encouraged you to be brave enough to push through the hard parts, and reminded you to bask in the joy of the warm welcome you got from the whole country.

That was also the same day your mom caught onto what was really happening, and found a few moments to ask you if you and Steve were dating when he slipped away to speak to a reporter. Then not too long after that, you and Steve mutually agreed that it would be best if the blossoming relationship between the two of you stayed private for a while as you adjusted to the public eye.

Though you knew he was still too nervous and shy around you for PDA, you still found the extent of his consideration of you to be so very sweet.

And now the two of you were at the point of the scars on your face healing nicely, first mission together underway, and he still hasn't kissed you first.

It was concerning to you for a little while there, so much so that you even went to Bucky to ask him for some knowledge from his 100 year old archive of Steve Rogers knowledge and expertise. He reassured you through plenty of experience that Steve just really sucked at being confident around girls he found himself pining over, and you, for some reason, damn near knocked him head over heels every time he looked at you. Though you were flattered and understood Bucky's words probably came vicariously through Steve's own mouth, you knew you just had to be gentle and give him some time.

Luckily for Steve, you had all the time in the world for such a sweet creature. Except for today, today the two of you only had 12 hours to complete your tasks.

Just as expected, the mission was going as smoothly as it possibly could. Well, for you it was. Steve on the other hand found a whole new set of struggles out on the field he's never experienced before.

The two of you went at it with the good ol' divide and conquer method. Though teamwork and sticking together was more his usual style, he understood the time frame and importance of getting it all done as fast and clean as possible, and he trusted that you would be perfectly fine on your own.

What he didn't consider was the moments your paths crossed and how flustered he got watching you fight. It was like watching a hot steak knife cut through room temperature butter, nobody stood a chance against you. A billion different emotions flew at him as he witnessed you fighting with his own eyes for the first time. His instinct was to protect you at all costs, but he knew damn well you didn't need him. It was simultaneously the hottest thing he had ever seen, while also kicking his own confidence down a notch considering all his thoughts revolved around you and that made his own good decision making decline rapidly.

He nearly died on the spot as he ran past you right as you took down an opponent, and still found the chance to wink at him as he passed by. Weak in the knees, he still had to find the strength to keep going.

Then with all rooms cleared minus the one with the payload, your voice filled his comms and the two of you agreed to clear it out together. A few hours deep into the mission your familiar chipper tone was now a bit deeper and raspier from the elevation and cold cold weather, all it did was make his weak knees even weaker.

By the time he ran into the room that you stormed into without waiting for him first, you were already combating with about 4 guys twice the size of you. One by one they fell to the ground, and as you came face to face with the very last of the enemies, Steve knocked him out before you could even raise your fist.

"Oh, thanks!" You smiled, standing a little straighter while trying to catch your breath.

"You were doing pretty shitty without me, thought I'd lend a hand" Steve joked, big cheeky smile on his face. He was genuinely happy to see you in your element, this was the first time he ever witnessed you be completely confident.

"My hero!" You swooned, pretending to fall backwards into his arms.

Steve giggled before looking around the room and spotting the briefcase they needed to recover. Carefully picking it up, he realized they had a few moments to just relax now that none of their opponents were conscious. "In all seriousness, remember how I said I was intimidated by you this morning? That still stands. I can barely concentrate."

"You're ridiculous, but you're doing great." You smiled, panting while you reached up to squeeze his shoulder. "I'm not used to fighting alongside teammates who actually try to get the job done. It's actually really nice. Thanks, Cap."

"Get used to it, this is how it's going to be from now on." He reminded you. "It should be pretty smooth from here on out, we'll be out of here in no time."

After destroying classified information, and tying up all the loose ends, out of there they were. By the time the two of you made it to the hotel for, as you loved to call it, your sleepover, that's when Steve finally got his chance to shine by talking care of everything.

Check in, carrying the bags, even letting you shower first while he got dinner for the two of you so you didn't have to think about anything. Acts of service was how he best knew to express his love for others, and he could tell you always appreciated it. Especially when you were used to taking care of all of your former teammates on missions.

By the time you got your sore body out of the shower and dressed in the coziest of sweats and fresh fluffy socks, it was already almost midnight and Steve already had a delicious meal waiting for you. The two of you ate together, and the exhaustion hit you so hard that you were hysterically laughing about things that weren't even funny, which made Steve laugh right along with you.

It was such a nice change of pace for the both of you. Being able to let go of the mental weight after days of battle was hard to do, but each other's company made it easy. It made you wonder why you didn't agree to be an Avenger way sooner, and it made you realize how much you just wanted to keep Steve around you forever and ever.

He knew when your giggles subsided with one big yawn, it was probably time for you to get some sleep. When he got up to take a shower, you didn't hesitate to dive into bed and make yourself cozy. By the time he got out, also cozy in some warm sweats, a content smile stretched across his face when he saw your sleeping frame all snuggled up in the blankets to keep warm.

It was starting to snow out, and the heater tried its best to keep it warm, but nothing beat the warmth of each other. Which is why Steve made the executive decision to completely ignore one of the two beds in the room and slide underneath the covers with you.

As carefully as he could to not wake you up, he reached over to turn the lights off, then cuddled you to you. He pulled your back to his front and held you snuggly against him, just as his head hit the pillow, your quiet sleepy voice pulled his attention to you.

"Yay, Stevie sleepover!" You enthused with barely any energy. The juxtaposition was more than amusing to the soldier.

"Buggy bedtime!" He quietly enthused with you. "Sorry, I tried so hard not to wake you up."

"I'm so happy I'm awake, because now I'm aware of how warm and cozy this is." You mumbled, Grabbing onto one of his arms and hugging in between yours.

"How are you feeling?" Steve asked. "Need anything before we sleep?"

"Just a little sore, but I'm totally okay. I actually feel really good." You confessed. "How 'bout you? Are you okay?"

"Not even a scratch." You could hear the grin in his tired voice. "You were incredible today, I'm really proud of you"

"You taught me everything I know." You tried getting impossibly closer to him, feeling like you were halfway between the real world and dream land.

"Hey..." Steve adjusted his arm from you grip so he could reach your face.

"Hmm?" You questioned, half asleep as his hand cupped your cheek and gently pulled it towards him.

All the already thin air was nearly knocked out of your lungs and you were fully convinced that you were definitely dreaming when he pressed his lips to yours. As corny as it seemed, this kiss was different than all the rest. It felt like all the romance books had described kisses. Sparks, fireworks, passion, comfort, love, and longer than all the ones you'd exchanged before.

You'd never felt anything like it before, not with him, not with Harvey, no one. You knew you'd remember it forever.

All of the mental weight you felt over his long journey of being too scared to kiss you first just melted right off. Immediately you realized how silly it was in the first place. You were happy to move on his own time.

"I know I haven't been the best at truthfully expressing my feelings, but that's just because you're the most special little thing I've ever had before. You made me incredibly nervous even though you've been nothing but patient with me. But just know that I really do think you're the most wonderful person I've ever met. I'm really happy we got to do this today, you've grown so much to get here. It's been really lovely to watch."

Turning over to face him, you kissed him right back and held him just as tight. "You've grown a lot too, and you've definitely gotten braver. I think you're the sweetest, most handsome man on this planet and frankly I don't know if I deserve words as kind as those. But thank you, your spot in my life has been one of the greatest honors, even more so than the fancy Avenger title."

"Now how am I ever supposed to go on missions with anyone else?" Steve grinned and he slowly moved his hand off your face and settled into the mattress and against your body. "This has spoiled me completely."

"Clint doesn't ever want to spoon with you?" You questioned sleepily. "I bet Bruce is nice and warm."

"I'd rather sleep on the floor." Steve deadpanned. "With no blankets..."

"I bet Tony would snuggle up." You smiled to yourself, knowing that would tip him over the edge.

"Outside. Naked in the snow."

A lazy giggle was all your body had energy for, "but you're shy!"

"Then it's a really good thing that you're here instead of them, huh?" Steve pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. "We can get all the cozy sleep we want in this expensive hotel on the government's dime."

"So luxurious" You mumbled. "Hope you have the best sleep ever."

"I always sleep well next to you, and the law says we have to sleep in tomorrow so that's even better."

"Oh, really?" You smiled at his made up law.

"Really." He confirmed. "Goodnight, love bug."

"Sweet dreams, Twinkles."

You did just what Steve, or the law, told you. It wasn't very hard to sleep in as late as your body would allow when you felt so safe and warm in the hold of your sweet super soldier.

Eventually when the two of you finally got your butts out of bed and back home, gears were shifted from missions and battlefields to lawyers and courtrooms.

With a lot of help and passion from Natasha, Harvey was officially on trial and facing the legal repercussions of his actions. Being a Plaintiff in a physical assault case was not something you ever had on your bingo card, and way out of your realm of knowledge, so there was a lot of work to be done.

Luckily, you had a lot of incredible people on your side. There was a solid week full of preparation with a big team of people who found it really important for you to win your case.

Tony worked with Jarvis and the compound security department to pull surveillance footage of any and all instances that could be used against Harvey in the court of law. Luckily, Steve was good at his job and thought one step ahead of everyone else, so he had recorded the date and approximate times of every single incident you had come to him for. That helped tremendously in pulling evidence.

Bucky, Sam, Nat, Steve, Commander Bennett and a few other Agents from your old recruit group came forward as your witnesses, and character witness. Their support meant more to you than anything else.

Nat also shared her best advice with you over plenty of lunches together, and even went shopping with you for clothes to wear for the three day long trial. The long week of preparation usually ended with dinners at your place every night, a double date of sorts with Bucky, Nat, and Steve.

All of the other Avengers supported the cause by holding down the fort so everyone else could focus on the trial.

Oh, and you had a really good lawyer.

Three long days of back and forth arguing was exhausting and emotionally taxing at best. At the very root of it, trying to get somebody you used to love in jail was devastating. He was your first love, and part of you knew that regardless of what he put you through, you'd always hold just a small piece of that love for him.

More surface level, and even though your issues with Harvey began way before your budding romance with Steve, you felt terrible that he was engaged with and had to clean up so much of this mess your ex boyfriend had made. It was also unexpectedly embarrassing to have to stand in front of a courtroom filled with your teammates, friends, and family where they all had to listen to the endless list of all the bad things that have happened to you at the hands of this man.

At the end of each day you just wanted to cry and be alone for a while. Making your way up to the rooftop after taking off your make up and business attire, you'd ignore everyone's attempts at trying to make you feel better and just spend some time with the stars.

Being faced head on with all the shit that was thrown at you, you couldn't help but to wonder if you should've made better choices. If you had done anything differently, maybe you would've never had to endure all the pain. You even wondered if you should be apologizing to your parents who were now hearing the true extent of your hardship.

Your dad was getting old, and your Mom was a worry wart. It wasn't good for either of them to hear any of the details, or see the close up pictures of your injured body. If he could, your dad would've killed him in one clean sweep and hid the body somewhere not even the avengers could find if he had the chance. Your sister and brother in law would do even worse than that, and you could only hope Luca would never grow up to learn about any of this and think anything less than you.

Because to him, and the rest of the world, you're a superhero now. So you found the strength to feel all your feelings after court, brush them off, then wake up the next morning to do it all again.

The last day was probably the worst. When the judge deemed Harvey guilty and sentenced him to 8 years, you should've been happy to see him getting taken away in handcuffs.

You should've been smiling, hugging, and celebrating like all of your loved ones behind you. The justice should've brought you peace, but all it did was bring tears to your eyes.

Especially as the police officers walked him right past you as they cleared the court for the final time.

"Happy?" Harvey asked you in passing. "This is what you always wanted huh?"

"I never wanted this." You stated clearly, and sadly. "Unfortunately your own actions led you here, it never had to be this way. I hope you learn a valuable lesson, and I wish you nothing but what you deserve in the future."

"You're fucking insane." He practically spat in your face. "You did this to me."

"You did this to yourself." You swallowed a lump in your throat.

Those were your final words to him before he was taken away, and you were swallowed by the arms of people who truly loved you.

In the hallways of the city courthouse, you were told by Steve, Nat, Bucky, and Sam that they passed a new regulation in the compound. It was called "The 306 policy" clearly stating that any bullying coming from any employee working for the avengers was now to be taken seriously with zero tolerance. No more strikes, no more warnings. Furthermore, if that bullying had to do with gender, sexuality, or race, they would be put under dishonorable discharge to ensure a bumpy life and career ahead.

After properly thanking everyone who put forth their time and effort to help, you got home and took a very very long nap, ate a big meal, took a hot shower, then put your AirPods on and went on a walk.

Stopping by a few shops and grabbing a few different special surprises, your mind felt so much clearer. A quick stop home, then you found yourself walking into Steve's apartment with said surprises in hand.

Given the time and the fact that it was already pretty late, you found Steve exactly where you expected him to be at 9:30 pm on a Friday night. On the couch with a movie he wasn't paying attention to playing on the TV, and his sketchbook and pencil in hand.

Not expecting you to want company tonight, Steve looked up at you with a confused look on your face when he saw you approach with flowers and a brown paper bag.

"Oh, hi love bug." Steve grinned contently, sitting up a bit and closing his sketch book and setting it down to give you his full attention.

"Hi, sorry, hope it's okay that I stopped by." You said while approaching him.

"It's always okay" Steve smiled and stuck his arms out for you. You set the flowers and the bag down on the coffee table before giving him a hug and a kiss. "What's up? How are you doing."

"Better, I know it's been a long week and I feel like I've been neglecting you a bit, and i'm sorry." You explained, watching his face soften. "I just wanted to spend some time with you. I brought us ice cream, and I got you flowers as a small token of appreciation for everything you've done for me. Not only this week, but my whole career here."

"You got me flowers?" He questioned with puppy dog pouted lips and furrowed brows.

"Mhm" You nodded, "I don't know what your favorite flowers are but these ones reminded me of you."

A sigh left his nose and his lips stayed pouted as he kept his eyes glued to the bouquet on the table. "Nobody has ever gotten me flowers before, that's so nice."

Sitting down next to him, you threw your arms loosely around his neck and rested your head against his. His arm quickly found the curve of your hip and rested there. You happily closed your eyes and enjoyed the embrace of the soldier.

"Thank you, sweetheart. I love them." Steve pressed a kiss to your temple. "But I hope you know I understand, and I don't feel neglected."

"Even if that's the case, I just want you to know how much I care about you."

"I know, I can feel it!" He reassured you, "I feel very secure, I never doubt your love and care for me."

A grin took control of your calm face. "Thank you for communicating so clearly, that takes away so much mental weight."

Steve giggled. "Will you communicate what kind of ice cream you got, and if I need to get up to get spoons?"

"Your favorite, vanilla with salted caramel ribbons. Spoons are in the bag."

"I can't believe this is how you treat me and everyone expected me to not fall head over heels?" He questioned, reaching in the bag and pulling out the pint.

You let go of him and got comfortable on the couch, crossing your legs underneath you and facing Steve. He handed you a spoon, and put half his blanket over your lap before popping the lid to the pint open.

Neither of you wasted any time before digging your spoons in. "Cheers?" Steve lifted his spoon.

You grinned. "To you, thank you for supporting me through a lot of bullshit."

"No" Steve denied, shaking his head with an even gentler smile. "To your peace of mind, getting the justice you deserve, and being brave enough to see the greener grass."

Too excited to eat ice cream to scold him for making this about you, you put the spoon in your mouth anyways. Both of you exhaled gloriously at the same time, it was so unfortunately delicious that you knew the entire pint stood no chance of survival.

"So, what are your big plans now that you finally get some peace and quiet?" Steve questioned.

"Well first thing tomorrow morning I'm going to go on a run on the outdoor track with my AirPods on, something I've been too scared to do for a while now." You noted. "Then I'll get some paperwork done from that mission we went on that I've been way too busy to touch, and after that I'll probably text Captain America to see if he wants to hang out and get dinner or something."

"Ooh, I bet he'll say yes." Steve perked up. "He told me he really wants to ask you out to get Dim Sum with him, something about a real date... but I'm not too sure. I think he was nervous about giving you some time to process everything that happened this week. So, you asking him to hang out would definitely make him happy."

"Mmm" You smiled, swallowing the ice cream in your mouth. "Well, if he needs any reassurance I would probably tell Cap that I don't need any more time to process because I learned a really valuable lesson recently."

Steve's heart started to increase in speed as these conversations always made him a bit anxious, which is why he tended to avoid them in the first place. "What would that be?"

"More time and a romantic night with candles and soup dumplings isn't going to do anything to change how I feel about you." You grinned, scooping more ice cream onto your spoon. "Whether we're in our pajamas eating ice cream together on the couch or dressed to the nines at some random charity event eating caviar, I'm just happy to be with you. This is a real date to me."

"While I agree completely," Steve giggled as a drop of melted ice cream landed on the back of your hand and you licked it off. "I have to say, if this is a date then now I'm a little nervous."

"That implies that if we were on a date, there is something you would do differently that's making you feel nervous." You raised your eyebrow, questioning his intentions.

"First of all, I'd be the one bringing you flowers. I'd probably brush my hair first and maybe not wear... this."

"But you look so handsome like that!" You argued. "And there's already flowers here so we both benefit."

"I'd also spend the whole night with sweaty palms just wondering if you were having fun or if I was acting a little weird on accident"

You smiled at his words. "I'm always having fun with you, and you're always a little bit weird. It's part of your charm. It's fun!"

"Then at the end of the night if you seemed like you had a good time and I hadn't yet scared you off I would be even more nervous because then I wouldn't know what to do." Steve shrugged. "Especially if this was a date. Because for a while now I've been meaning to ask you if I could be your boyfriend, but of course if I did that now it would just be terrible timing."

"Terrible timing?" Your head tilted sideways a bit.

"Because anticipating the answer to that question would make me incredibly nauseous, and I'm eating ice cream so adding dairy into that mix just wouldn't be pretty."

"Ah" You slowly nodded in understanding. "Okay, so I just won't answer that then. So there's absolutely no anticipation, no nausea, just ice cream."

Steve slowly leaned back until the arm of the couch dug into his spine, and he rid his spoon of the ice cream still on it. "Thanks, it also really helps with that feeling." He placed his hand over his sternum. "You know? That really awful one where it's like your heart is sitting in the pit of your stomach? Like it's trying to tell you it's in danger but really everything is fine."

"Everything is totally fine." You laughed as you watched him take a deep breath. "You asked the question and I didn't runaway screaming. The earth is still spinning, and you still have twinkles in your eyes so, yeah, really it is fine."

"I'm dying slowly and painfully." Steve whispered.

Reaching out and grabbing his hand, you pulled him back up. "Never in a million years would I ever say no to that."

"Are you sure?" His puppy dog eyes came right back. "I could've done this much better."

"You know, for about 99% of everything in my life I can see a benefit and a disadvantage. Maybe a flaw or a drawback that stops me from fully enjoying something for what it is." You explained. "But you? You're the only thing I've ever been 100% sure of. I don't need anything more convincing than this, this is already the best. Nothing could better."

Steve's posture relaxed, and he squeezed your hand. "I'm speechless."

"Speechless, or perhaps all your energy is focusing on making sure your internal organs are going back to normal." You giggled. "No throw up! I'm so proud!"

"My face probably reads very differently, but I swear I'm really happy right now."

You leaned forward and kissed him. His lips tasted just as sweet as his personality which made it even harder to pull away. But when the need to breathe got too dire, your foreheads stayed connected.

"I'm Steve Rogers girlfriend." You spoke, the statement felt foreign and undeserving on your tongue. "Man oh man, how did this happen?"

"It's a really long story." Steve smiled. "Is this a good time to tell you that your dad invited me over for dinner next Tuesday?"

"Of course he did" you sighed, kissing him one more time before pulling away. "My dad didn't even invite me over for dinner next Tuesday."

"Trust me, he's going to." Steve smiled. "You have a really cool family. I hope it's okay that I said yes."

"That's fine." You giggled. "But you do understand that my dad probably hasn't realized we're dating?"

"Yeah, that's fine." Steve nodded with a smile.

"And you understand that my mom definitely knows?" You questioned again. "And it's not just going to be them two? Luca will definitely be there, and he will definitely be bothering you the whole time."

"That's the fun part!" He enthused.

"Okay." You smiled, raising your hands up in defense. "If you know what you're in for, and you still think it sounds fun then knock yourself out by all means."

Before Tuesday rolled around, Steve was thankful that neither of you got called onto missions so he could have the opportunity to romance you the way you deserved. He was also thankful that you already agreed to be his girlfriend so he could actually relax and enjoy your time together without being too terribly anxious about what was to happen next.

Just as promised, the two of you went to that fancy dim sum restaurant you couldn't get enough of, better outfits, more flowers, a lovely stroll along the water, city lights, then he asked you that dreaded question again. This time more confidently, and once more you agreed to let him be your boyfriend, and reassured him that you loved the way he asked you the first time. But, this was lovely too and you appreciated the gesture. The night wrapped up with snuggles and a movie while you happily waited for Steve to move things along at his own pace.

You did eventually get invited to that Tuesday night dinner with your parents, and that also went really well. Steve seemed really comfortable and very relaxed around your family, even more so than you expected. Of course Steve was a personable, well rounded, and easily adaptable man. You knew he could handle a lot more than you ever could, but admittedly, your mother greeting him with a big ol' kiss on the cheek immediately followed by getting tackled by Luca and Rocket at the same time was a bit more than you expected.

A big cheeky smile remained on his face the whole time he was there, and the whole long drive back home. He even fell asleep holding you in his arms with a grin on his face, happy and content as could be.

Then, the day after that and the next few days to follow, he started acting.... uncharacteristically. He got quieter, started hanging around everyone less, and working out more.

You asked him a few times if there was something wrong, and each attempt was met with a different variation of the fact that he was okay, and everything was fine.

But your levels of concern peaked when you left your apartment for team board game night. The whole team put on their fanciest pajamas, brought their favorite snacks and drinks, and gathered to play all their favorite games. Immediately the whole group asked you where Steve was, you shrugged it off and assumed that maybe he was still getting some work done and he would join as soon as he was done.

Two rounds of mancala, and a painfully long round of catan, you couldn't ignore the lack of Steve any longer. Politely excusing yourself, you made your way through the compound in your matching pajama set, socks, and ugg slippers to Steve's office just to open the door and find it empty. Making it all the way back to the Avengers sector, you quietly knocked on Steve's door before entering his apartment.

He looked like a deer in headlights as you entered his living room while he scrambled to wipe freshly fallen tears off his face to further pretend like everything was still fine.

Though you've gotten pretty close, you've never really seen him cry before. In an instant your heart nearly strained itself to death as it felt like the saddest sight you've ever seen, the you wondered if this is how he felt every time he saw tears on your cheeks.

"Oh, sweet boy." You pouted walking towards him, no longer interested in giant jenga.

"Sorry," He sniffled, running a hand through his messy hair. "I'll be out in a few minutes, I'm just- I need a minute. You don't have to stay... you should go hang out with them."

"What's wrong, Stevie?" You sat next to him on the couch and immediately pulled him into a big hug, the kind that you never want to let go from. Warm, tight, comforting, and your hand cradled the back of his head while the other rubbed his back. "And don't say you're fine again because you're obviously not."

"You're so beautiful" He cried into your shoulder.

"And you're very handsome, but that doesn't fix the problem." His compliment made you giggle despite feeling sad for him. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No." He immediately shook his head before lifting it off your shoulder so he could look at your face. "Not at all. This is not your fault, I've just been having a hard week."

You sighed and looked deeply into his big ol' puppy dog eyes. "Then who do I need to beat up?"

"Violence is not the answer, sweetie."  A genuine smile reached his teary eyes.

"It could be." You proposed.

"It doesn't have to be." He reassured you. "Contrary to popular belief, I am fine. Nobody did anything bad to me. I just needed some time to process my feelings."

"Your feelings about what, Stevie?"

It took a lot of courage for Steve to be vulnerable with you. The only other time he ever let a pretty girl see him cry before was Peggy right after Bucky fell off the train, and even then, she wasn't carefully wiping tears off his cheeks and looking at him with such kind and concerned eyes. You were melting him into a pile of goo, and he couldn't even help but to feel comforted in your presence even though he usually found moments like these to be wildly uncomfortable.

"I really loved hanging out with your family. Genuinely, it was the best time I've had in a while." Steve started, setting the record straight.

But even then, your face morphed into a cringe. "Oh god, what did my Dad say to you?"

"No, nothing." Once again, you had him giggling. "Your Dad is great, and your Mom might just be an actual angel on earth. Even Jane... it's just- the way they treated me like a normal human being that night was something I haven't experienced since I got the serum. I think it's just made me miss what life was like before all of this." He motioned to his body.

Your eyes went from concerned to just sad for him.

"It's stupid" Steve shook his head, and wiped more tears off his cheeks.

"No it's not." You denied. "Everything in your life changed. I think craving and missing the comfort of simplicity isn't stupid at all. I'm not even two hours away from my family and some days I'm so home sick it's all I can think about. I can't even imagine what that feeling must be like for you."

Steve took a deep breath, trying really hard to regulate his emotions and ground himself. Your physical touch, and comforting words was working wonders. "Sometimes thinking back to how I used to be gives me this weird sense that this body isn't even mine. I almost felt stronger and more at home when I could barely breathe or my heart could barely handle me standing up too fast. Now I kind've feel like a baby giraffe learning how to walk for the first time." He giggled at his own analogy, earning your grin despite your sadness oh his behalf. "I know sometimes it's awkward and weird to observe from the outside but inwardly, I'm trying my best."

"I've always thought you to be incredibly graceful" You admitted. "It probably feels worse than it looks. But truthfully, I've always admired pretty much everything about you."

“You're too sweet." Steve grinned. "Like I said, I'll be fine. I just miss my Mom... and Bucky's family. His little sister was great. I also miss feeling normal, and this one park I used to go to study when I was in art school that's now an apartment building."

"Well, I know this won't fix much but if it's any consolation my family loves you and they love having you around. It's also apparent to me that they like treating you like a normal person, probably to a fault. You'll always have a place to go if you need to feel some good old fashioned family love and get away from all of this." You reminded him. "I can't promise that Luca will ever stop asking you to sign his captain America posters, but I'm sure he'll run out of unsigned ones soon enough."

"I like signing his posters." Steve sniffled with a smile.

"You know he asked me to do show and tell at his school next week?" You asked. "Not because he wants me to show something, but because he wants to show me off. The poster thing is totally normal."

"If it weren't for public scrutiny, I'd want to show you off too."

"Now you're the one that's too sweet." You grinned. "I'm sorry you're feeling so sad, Stevie. For what it's worth, I love you a lot and you'll always be normal to me."

You wrapped your arms around him again, but this time he squeezed you tighter and pulled you onto his lap just to feel you closer. The weight of you on him helped his body further relax, and he loved the way you cradled his head and kissed his temple a few times in the process of getting comfortable. It was really hard to think about the sadness when all he could feel when you were around was happy and incredibly grateful.

"I love you too" Steve's tears came to an end with his body closely squished against yours.

Your hands carefully cupped his cheeks and tilted his head to look up at you. Looking right into your big, kind eyes momentarily before you closed them and pressed your lips to his gave him uncontrollable butterflies.

They traveled all the way up and down his body as your tongue mingled with his, and his brain buzzed as his lips swelled. His heart felt just as frail as it did when he was that 90 pound kid with arrhythmia when you pulled away for air and opened your eyes again. They were still big and kind, but they were also just as dilated as his, and your heartbeat was just as fast.

But you knew better than to keep it going, you knew that no matter what happened, you'd never be comfortable going any further with Steve if he wasn't comfortable as well.

So rather than continuing to make out with him, your thumbs rubbed his cheeks, and you left kissed on his forehead, nose, and one quick one on his lips to make up for the sad loss. "I'd also like to remind you that you have a whole family right outside this door that wants to play Scrabble with you."

Steve couldn't ignore his love and deep attraction to you anymore. He was already in a state of vulnerability, and he desperately needed to keep you close to him. "I don't think I care too much about using my words right now."

That sentence was enough to turn your very controlled love and warmth into fire. An eyebrow raised in genuine surprise at his boldness. "We can use as many or as little words as you'd like, but that's up to you, Honey. You're going to have to set the pace on this one."

In an instant, his lips were right back on yours with even more fire and hunger than before. As the heat amped up, your fingers slid through his hair, and his hands slipped up the back of your shirt. You got lost in your own head for a few moments, overly conscious of the fact that he could feel the difference in texture between your skin and the huge scar on running down your spine.

Those thoughts escaped you as his hands assisted you in readjusting. Rather than sitting sideways, you threw your legs to the side of his and straddled him instead. As the lust progressed and both of your hearts were beating in rhythm, you could now feel that Steve wanted you just as bad as you wanted him, but like he said, his body sometimes didn't feel like him. You didn't feel right without reassurance that his heart and mind wanted this just as much.

It seems as though he was on the same page as you, because he pulled away slightly just to get some oxygen into what might as well have been his still asthmatic lungs considering you were making him feel that familiar sting. But he also wanted to check in on you.

"Is this what you want?" Steve asked, the ever so lovely twinkles returning to his pretty blue eyes.

You grinned and pecked his lips. "Of course this is what I want, but I want you to be sure too. I know this is important to you, and I look to you for guidance in a lot of situations. So if you think this is the right time for you, then there's no doubt for me."

Steve's hands traveled up and down your back, massaged the small of your waist, and acclimated you to his hands on your bare skin while you had this conversation. You searched his face for honesty just as deeply as he studied yours. He could tell you meant every word, but you spotted a glimpse of doubt.

"Tell me about your hesitance." You told him with a welcoming expression as your hands massaged the back of his neck.

Steve sighed and hung his head low before picking it back up again. "Sometimes I still feel awful about what I did to you. There was a point where your trust in me was at a zero percent, and I don't think i've forgiven myself enough to believe it'll ever be back at 100"

"Steve, no." Your brows furrowed, genuinely shocked by the words coming out of his mouth. "What? Thats not even remotely a concern, nor something I ever think about anymore."

"I think about it every day." He admitted, maybe too honestly. But he knew he wouldn't be able to enjoy himself if this conversation wasn't had.

"My trust in you is 110 percent." Your hands found his cheeks again, angling his head so he had no choice but to look you in the eye when you told him. "What happened that day was a mistake. It was a misunderstanding, it was bad communication between the two of us, and the result of that was really unfortunate. I was harsh because I was in a very bad situation, but I never thought any less of you for it. I know you didn't mean to hurt me, and we can talk about this as many times as you need until you feel better about it. But I know you had no malicious intent."

Steve nodded in understanding. "My only hesitation right now is making sure that you're confident, and you trust me enough."

"I trust you more than I trust myself, and I mean that." You kissed him and rocked your hips forward. "If my life was on the line and I had to choose between you or myself to save it, I would choose you."

He attached his lips to yours this time. More passion, more fire, more brave roaming hands.

"And if I get to choose between board games or a night with you, I choose you." You continued between desperate kissing and heavy petting. "I'll always choose you over anything else. Besides, if you think it's impossible for me to trust you this much yet, then you must know that trust is earned and the only way to earn it is through your actions. So maybe, for you to feel better you need to give me all the more reason to trust you."

"I can't tell if you're a terrible influence or a really good one." He practically whimpered into your mouth. "I love you so much, being with you is where I’ve always felt the most comfortable.”

“Then let’s get even more comfortable with each other." You reassured him. "And I'll show you just how much of a home you can turn this body of yours into. Because I love you too, and we both deserve to be happy."

He smiled before kissing your forehead, then your lips before making his way to your jaw, down your neck into your collarbone, and the last thought you could even formulate before he captured all your senses was that even just by the way his hands held you, and his lips nipped at your collar bones was that there was a whole other side to this man that you never got to know, and you were absolutely in for it now.

And in for it you were, because even though he was all kinds of sweet, gentle, and loving, he was also incredibly sexy and attentive. Though your sexual experiences in life was pretty low, he blew everything you thought you knew out of the water. You didn’t even know it was possible for your body to feel the way that it did, or to even be as attracted to a person the way you were to Steve.

Even when all was said and done, he didn’t hesitate to hold your body close to his as you both caught your breath, exchanged affirmations and a few jokes just to hear your sweet laugh.

With his arms snug around your naked frame, and his fingers drawing shapes into your arm, he continued placing sweet kisses to the top of your head. It made you realize how the icky feeling you usually got never arrived. No regrets, no doubts, no mean voices in your head telling you that you weren’t good enough, pretty enough, or skilled enough.

It was just you, Steve, and a warmth in your heart that took over the former butterflies. There was his raspy voice rambling something to make you smile, which always worked, then there was some very comfortable silence.

An overwhelming sense of gratitude for Steve washed over you like a wave as you realized how happy and confident you felt in this very moment. No rushing to cover up, no feeling of anxiety or worry. A few months ago you could barely even imagine a word in which eating breakfast wasn’t an impossible task. Now, you were excited for the night because for once, that meant tomorrow was even closer, and tomorrow was going to be a really good day. You had no specific plans, but that was the fun part, you no longer needed a good thing to happen for you to have a good day. Tomorrow could just be, and that was good enough.

You could’ve cried right then and there, you also could’ve blamed the huge rush of hormones and endorphins for making you so emotional and gushy, but the fact of the matter was that all you could think about was how happy you are.

How happy Steve made you. How lucky you were to be excited for tomorrow.

Steve grinned when he looked down at you. Cuddled up to his side, head on his chest, absentmindedly looking at your hand that was rubbing his stomach. You traced the peaks and valleys of his muscles, completely lost in thought.

“What are you thinking about?” Steve asked quietly, his smile winding as you came back to earth and looked up at him.

You knew your deep inner thoughts might’ve brought up memories of harder times even though you were nothing but happy, and you really didn’t want to keep bringing up the past. So instead of being completely truthful, you focused on making newer, happier memories.

“Honestly?” You questioned, propping yourself up on your arm so you could see his face better and moving your hand up to his chest to draw a heart over his. “It’s just-“

“Wait now I’m scared.” Steve cut you off, causing you to giggle.

“Everyone was always so sure that sleeping with you meant better job opportunities, but it’s been almost 15 minutes now and I haven’t even been offered a promotion.” You joked, knowing he’d take it lightly.

“You’re stupid!” His belly laugh confirmed it, “You’re already at the highest rank, my dear. I don’t have anything left to offer you!”

“Damn it!” You pretended to be disappointed, big smile scrunched the corners of your eyes. “If I knew it would be this fun I would’ve done this months ago.”

“It’s a lot easier than all the training, huh?” Steve asked.

“I don’t know about that, I’m kind’ve exhausted.” You joked.

“Well, we all learn from our mistakes.” He smiled. “Now you know for next time.”

“That, we do.” You agreed, relaxing into him once more. “Maybe this really is what we should’ve been going in the training room all this time, I think it’s just as good of a work out.”

Steve gasped. “There’s cameras and windows in there!”

“Oh right, you’re very shy.” You poked his chest.

“Hey!” He caught your hand and tangled your fingers together with his. “Don’t be mean to me!”

“I’m not being mean, I think that’s very cute.” You kissed his pec. “Even cuter now that I’ve seen all of you and I know for a fact there’s absolutely nothing for you to be shy about.”

“Ooh!” He lit up. “Hey remember that one time a long time ago when I saw you naked?”

“How could I ever forget?” You laughed at his question. “Is it my turn to be scared?”

“No, I just wanted to say that I think you’re very beautiful.” He smiled. “I thought that back then too, but who was I to tell you that? So I’m telling you now to make up for it.”

“Okay that’s not so bad. Thank you, twinkles.”

“Mhm” He hummed.

More comfortable silence, more basking in his body heat and skin to skin contact.

“Do you think they’re still waiting for you to play scrabble?” You questioned quietly.

“I think they got the hint by now” Steve smiled, lifting the back of your hand to his mouth to kiss it.

Once again, silence.

“Wait…” Steve spoke. “I think I might actually have a job opportunity for you. What are you doing on May 20th?”

“Celebrating. That’s the first day of Gemini season” You recalled, amused by the serendipity.

Before you knew it, the moon said goodbye to the sun over and over again for months until Monday morning rolled around just like it always seemed to do.

Your combat boots squeezed against the floor beneath you as you walked down the hallway to the agent training room. As you walked, you caught a glimpse of your reflection in a big glass window pane. Your avengers uniform suited you more and more every time you wore it with pride, and you were even more proud that Steve was in his suit walking right behind you.

With a deep breath, you opened the door to the training room and Steve followed in behind you. You were greeted with a new batch of rookies in their agent uniforms, all standing tall in a neat, straight line.

Their eyes all on Commander Bennett as he beamed the moment you walked into the room. As unprofessional as it might have been, he couldn’t even help but to give you a hug as you approached, and you were happy to do so.

You faced the agents, Commander Bennett on your right and Steve on your left created your own line.

“Hello, Agents.” Steve greeted the line. “Congratulations on making it this far into your training.”

Your eyes scanned the line, and you couldn’t help but to remember when that used to be you, and how intimidating it felt to meet Steve for the first time.

“As you all know, this is Captain Rogers.” Bennett introduced. “But more importantly, this is Agent 306. Our newest Avenger, and the highest ranking agent to ever be trained in all of shield’s history.”

“Hi everyone.” You smiled, hoping to ease their tension. “It’s nice to meet you all. From here on out I’ll be in charge of assisting Commander Bennett in furthering your expertise and knowledge, hopefully turning you all into even better agents than the last group.”

“Though this is usually a task I take on myself,” Steve further explained. “It’s never been more apparent to me that you deserve to learn from the best of the best, and the best hands are her’s. I’ll be here to help out when you guys need it. Im here for extra support when you may need, and some extra oversight on hectic days but trust me when I say you are all very lucky that 306 agreed to this.”

If the two of you weren’t trying to hard to keep your relationship private, his words would’ve made you smile.

“We’re going to start by going down the line, and learning your names and assigned numbers.” You addressed the group again. Carefully scanning their faces, you couldn’t help but to feel pure joy in your heart when you saw a whole lot of women staring right back at you. You were hopeful, and happy knowing this experience would be so much easier for them than it was for you. “After we greet you please feel free to start warming up for your first lesson, we have about two hours together today. And three hours together for four days a week for the foreseeable future.”

“Yep, so maybe even chit chat with the people around you. Take some deep breaths, release your tension, and get to know each other, because we’re about to spend a lot of time together.” Steve agreed, happy to implement your suggestions on creating a happier and healthier work environment. “Look around at the people in this room and build the foundations of a strong, tight knit community. These are now the people you need to be looking out for. You guys live together, work together, train together, so the most important thing for you to do, is build trust.”

“This journey will be difficult, and tiring no matter how effortless you can make it look. But believe that it’ll be a lot easier if you enjoy everyone you’re on the journey with.” You agreed with Steve. “That being said, Captain Rogers and I are here to lift you up and support you through just as much as Commander Bennett, so please feel free to come to us with whatever you may need.”

“Alright, let’s get started.” Bennett ordered. “Agents, tactile formation remains until after you are greeted. Eyes forward, shoulders back.”

Steve looked at you, pride smeared all across his face. “You ready?” He held his hand up for a high five.

“Now more than ever.” You slapped your hand against his.

⋆｡°✩ The end ✩ °｡⋆

Though this is the end of the series, I’m always happy to write your requests for bug and sparkles 💞🌟

Tag list: @saranghaey @firephotogrl74 @selella @talesofadragon @ss28 @nekoannie-chan @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @spikeluv84 @crazyunsexycool @callmissrogers @xxxalicerogersxx @whore-for-chris-evans @em8rin @mulbsstuff @qalijahbydior @awkotaco24 @buckybarnessimpp @nicoline1998enilocin @buckystevelove @rogersbarber @mybuck @dbnightingale24 @ynstark @sincerelytlh @alexakeyloveloki @mrsevans90 @smhnxdiii @claralovescaptainamerica @hisredheadedgoddess28 @bigtreefest @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

[whitexwolfxx310]

|| Why Are You Never Real ||

Pairing: Bucky x female reader (Eleanor//Elena)) || Bucky x Loki Summary: In 1943, 24 year old Eleanor gets set up on a blind date with Bucky Barnes. The match is so perfect, it was written in the stars. Yes, they're soulmates. Unfortunately, HYDRA gets in the way- taking the perfect life away from the two. But what if fate was so certain, it gave them another chance to be together?

Warnings: Fluff and angst off the charts (I'm so sorry!). Some cursing- but very little.

Word Count: 5.8k A/Ns: So a few things inspired this fic; First, someone requested something similar to this about a year ago. The idea stuck with me (although it was originally about the love interest being on ice also). I can't find the message of the person who requested, so if you come across this & it was you, please let me know so I can give you credit! Second, I saw a TikTok of Bucky & Loki and I've been obsessed with bringing the two together. Last but not least, I'm one of those that is constantly blasting Sleep Token- so in combination with all of these things, the song: The Apparition was also inspiring. Let me know what you think!

1943

It was Labor Day weekend, and anybody who's anybody knows that's when the carnival came to town. Not only was it the official end to the hot New York summers, but it was an escape from everything having to do with the ongoing War. It was a reprieve for the children, to go out and experience some lighthearted fun. But mostly, the carnival lured the young adult crowd like a gullible captain to a siren in the sea.

Eleanor was twenty-four, still living comfortably at home with her parents and four younger siblings. While she helped take care of her siblings, the passive comments about how she was unmarried and reaching her prime age to start a family never failed to be brought up in daily conversations in their household. It wasn't for a lack of suitors. Plenty of men had asked her on dates, a few even so bold enough to offer marriage without so much as going for a stroll in the park. But for Eleanor, it wasn't just about picking a random man to build a life with. She dreamed of a true romance, just like the ones she would get so lost in while reading her books- and eventually starting a family out of love and not necessity or by society's regards.

While she had already made plans to meet up with her girlfriends on Saturday night at the carnival, her mother had a different idea- A blind date.

Eleanor had intriguingly spent the afternoon with her hair in curlers and ironing her favorite yellow summer dress, the one with white polka dots and matching heels. It would perfectly accent the slight tan she obtained from the few times she snuck to the beach on the outskirts of the city to dig her toes in the sand and lay in the scorching sun. As her typical primping time took a little longer than usual in anticipation for the blind date, Eleanor’s mind kept getting swept up in who the possible mystery man could be. Was it someone she knew? A family friend? What did he look like? Was he short or tall? Does he have a sense of humor? Sure, she of course curious if he was handsome. But that was never her main focus. Eleanor wanted someone who could make her laugh- someone that was playful and knew how to have fun. But a pretty face was definitely a bonus. Opening the front door and stepping out into the Summer’s relentless humidity, she was met with none other than Bucky Barnes- Brooklyn's most notorious flirt and former high school crush. He leaned casually against the railing of the front steps, dressed in an olive-green Class A's uniform wearing a smug smile.

"Ready for our date, Doll?" After initially closing the door in his face in a panic, Eleanor's mother pleaded with her to try and give him a chance. Rumor amongst the women on the block was that he was looking for a wife. She rambled off the typical list of how handsome he was, how he came from a good family, and the cherry on top of the guilt pie: he had just enlisted in the Army and was leaving in just a few short weeks for basic training. Who knows when he will come back home, if at all? Could one date really be so bad?

Eleanor felt nervous walking the few blocks with Bucky, exchanging formal pleasantries about how beautiful the night was and so on. But she was shy- at least, by her standards. She had always worn a big smile and never felt self-conscious about how loud she laughed, regardless of how many times people stated that it was ‘unladylike’. Because of her unapologetic mentality in refusing to conform to make herself small, it labeled her as difficult. Eleanor didn’t have many friends, but she always said: “I’d rather have four quarters than a hundred pennies,” and felt fulfilled. The people in her life that truly knew her, knew of her dreams and ambitions- and that she truly had a heart of gold. Not many others noticed, but Bucky did. He had always noticed how Eleanor could light up a room. She was the sun incarnate. So, when her mother ‘accidentally’ bumped into him on the street that morning and suggested he take her out tonight, he couldn’t refuse the idea. “So aside from enlisting,” Eleanor gestured towards his uniform with her free hand, since her other was interlocked around Bucky’s arm, “what else have you been up to since we graduated, Barnes?” She unconsciously gripped his forearm just a bit tighter, using physical touch to ground her from the unfamiliar nervousness she felt. “Sergeant Barnes,” he corrected with a grin. The pair moved from their sedentary spot in the carnival ticket line, only a few away from the booth. “Okay, Sergeant,” Eleanor reiterates, laughing to herself. “So?” she asks again, tilting her head to the side curiously and looking up at him through her lashes. “Boxed my way through art school. Then with all the boys gettin’ drafted, I just figured I’d sign up before Uncle Sam had the chance to come knockin’ on my door,” he recalled casually, but didn’t seem interested in talking about himself. Bucky’s arm disentangled with Eleanor’s, pressing his palm to the small of her lower back to coax her forward gently as the ticket line moved again. Her breath hitched slightly when he didn’t remove it right away, she eyed him up and down modestly.

His head tilted to the side, “What about you, Ellie?” his sapphire blue eyes holding her gaze, “What keeps you busy these days?”

Ellie. The nickname he uses makes her stomach drop, and they haven’t even gone on any rides yet. It’s a name he’s used off and on through school and over the years in passing. Her cheeks brighten with a new shade of light pink, breaking their fixed look at one another. Bucky takes notice and smiles fondly to himself.

“Um,” Eleanor forces herself to look back up at him, feeling at a loss for words as she tries not to focus so much on his beautiful smile- On how his slightly parted lips show the smallest hint of his white teeth. She didn’t think she’d be on a date tonight, let alone with someone that she’d been smitten with since grade school.

“I um,” her words were failing her for the first time ever, “I teach at the elementary school.” She hesitates a moment, before taking a breath and says, “to be honest, I’ve been waiting to get pulled into one of the factories.” Her voice now has a hint of sadness. Ellie quickly tries to deflect the subject, “Plus my brothers and sisters keep me pretty busy.” “Ah,” Bucky’s smile grows wider as his head tilts back at the recollection, also taking the hint, “and how are the little scoundrels?” Ellie laughs, thankful to have the relief of talking about herself put off. She shakes her head, “Still terrorizing anyone and everyone.” “Next!” Bucky reluctantly pulls his attention away from Ellie to step up to the ticket booth. “Two please,” he answers politely. As the worker counts his change, Bucky’s eyes couldn’t help but admire Ellie from head to toe. How she pointed one foot inward and fiddled with her fingers as she waited patiently with an imminent smile- admiring the sights and sounds of the fair around her. She was truly breathtaking.

There was no short supply of local attractive women. Bucky had dated plenty of them, and even more had shared his bed. They had always flocked to him, like a moth to a flame. It was a great stroke to his ego, but he was never taken with any of them. And none of them would have slammed a door in his face at the mere sight of him. Ellie though? She was something else entirely. He was always interested in what she had to say. The stories she told always captivated him and made him laugh. Being around her was easy and never forced. Even when they were kids, he found himself stealing glances and daydreaming about her. He had to make tonight mean something.

As Bucky had promised himself, he pulled out all the stops to impress Ellie. It wasn’t long before she eased back into her normal self, although she couldn’t ignore the butterflies constantly flittering along the lining of her belly. The two spent hours walking around the carnival, sharing treats like cotton candy and the biggest, most delicious cannoli they had ever had. Bucky learned fast, and kept suggesting riding the bigger rides, because he selfishly loved it when Ellie clung onto him when she got scared. And Ellie, never being one to back down, always said yes. Ellie eventually convinced Bucky to take a break from riding the tilt-a-whirl back-to-back after threatening him with seeing the pink cotton candy to make an appearance again. He reluctantly conceded, knowing that he would be missing her reaching out and holding onto him. He suggested they play some carnival games until she felt better. And from the way Ellie’s eyes lit up with excitement, Bucky knew it was a promising idea.

In the meantime, they threw darts to pop balloons, a few several types of ball toss, and a horse racing game. Bucky even got to show off his marksmanship at a rifle target booth, winning Ellie a brown teddy bear that she proudly carried around with her for the entirety of the evening. But the best part was the way they cheered each other on with every game. Bucky’s heart swelled each time he won, and Ellie would jump up and down in excitement for him. Even with the playful competitive banter back and forth, neither of them felt a bitter loss. It was starting to get late, and the fair would be shutting down soon. The only ride the two hadn’t ridden yet was the Ferris wheel. Saving the best for last. Standing in a decently extensive line, the pair continued on with the tradition of the night: sharing belly laugh filled stories about dates gone horribly wrong and glances that lingered just a little too long.

Bucky felt something being with Ellie that was completely unfamiliar. In a world that was currently plagued with such darkness, this was the first time in he didn’t know how long he didn’t feel it weigh on him. She rejuvenated his very soul. Bucky silently wished out into the universe that she felt the same about him. “Y’know Ellie, I have to admit,” Bucky tucked his hands into his pockets as he stared down at the dirt his shoe kicked up. “tonight’s been…Ellie?” As he looked up from the ground to meet those golden eyes, there was nothing. She was gone. “Ellie?” Bucky repeated, louder this time as he frantically scanned the large crowd. “Ellie!” He shouted through his funneled hands while standing on his toes. Bucky’s head was starting to spin with worst case scenarios when he suddenly caught a glimpse of her bright yellow dress. Off in a quiet corner next to the circus tent, Ellie was crouched down talking to a young boy. The boy wasn’t looking at her, but instead his head hung low as he stared at the ground, and he seemed… upset.

Although he was too far away to hear, Bucky watched the encounter intently. Ellie nodded gently as she spoke to him, gesturing with her free hand- but the boy still seemed unresponsive. A moment of silence passes between them, and then with a bright smile, Ellie holds up the brown teddy bear that Bucky had won her earlier. She makes the stuffed animal dance, wave its arms, and boop the boy on his nose- finally getting his attention and smile. Then she holds the bear out to him. Without hesitation, he snatches it into his arms and pulls it tight against his chest. The boy is now beaming and looks like he was swapped with a completely different child. He hugs Ellie before running off to another group of children, holding up and showing off the bear while they all exclaimed how lucky he was. Ellie smiled and waved as the boy ran off, remaining crouched down on the ground for a moment even after being alone. Standing up as she brushed off her dress and watched the boy, her expression changed to one with a sorrowful undertone as the boy and his friends ran off. Turning to walk back to the Ferris wheel line, her honey brown eyes locked with Bucky’s. Just the sight of him waiting on her, standing online looking tall, broad, and handsome in that uniform watching her made her cheeks blush and a small smile tug on her lips.

From Bucky’s point of view, time seemed to move in slow motion. The bottom of Ellie’s dress flowed out with each sway of her hips. Her curls gently bounced with each graceful step, despite the uneven fairgrounds. He forgot how to breathe the closer she approached.

“Sorry ‘bout that, Sarge.” Ellie says apologetically, joining Bucky back in the line. “It’s alright,” Bucky’s voice is soft from his throat being dry. The feeling is suddenly overwhelming, his hand has laid dormant for too long. Taking the risk of not being on a ride, he wraps his arm around her shoulders. “Everything okay?” Leaning her body into his, Ellie sighs, “that was one of my students. He got the news earlier this week that his father died in the war. Left behind a wife and three kids… I just-” taking in a deep breath to try and calm herself, she shakes her head, “I know we’ve heard this story a hundred times before, Buck. It just never gets any easier. And I’m so sorry about the bear. I just got caught up in wanting to make him feel better that I just, I-” it was obvious that her heart hurt for the boy as her voice started to crack as she rambled.

She was right, it never got easier to hear these stories. And it always hit that much closer to home when it was someone you knew that was affected. Bucky was unsure if it was the story of the boy, or seeing Ellie’s act of compassion, but there was an undeniable gnawing in his chest as well. “Hey…” he cooed gently, cupping her chin between his thumb and pointer finger, coaxing her to look at him. Ellie tilted her head, though reluctant to look into Bucky’s eyes. But when she did, she found those cerulean irises filled with an unfeigned understanding as he leaned in close, “just means I get to take you out again for a chance to win another one, doll.” Her breath hitched again, at both the close proximity and the idea of another date with Bucky. Her eyes drifted down to his lips briefly before she met his gaze once again. Instinctively, Ellie started to lean in closer- not caring who was around to witness her kiss Bucky Barnes in public.

Bucky mirrored Ellie’s motions, his tongue gently flicking against his lips as he leaned in also when- “Next!” The carnival worker called. The disappointment was evident on Bucky’s face as his lips clenched into a thin line and his eyes closed tightly. Ellie though, was the opposite. She grabbed Bucky’s hand, “C’mon, Sergeant!” she giggled, dragging him onto the ride. Yet again, her smile was contagious, and he immediately gave in. Settling into their car on the Ferris wheel, it quickly jerked and rocked as it started to spin. Ellie threw her arms straight up into the air, squealing in pure excitement. And Bucky watched- Watched as the wonder sparkled in Ellie’s eyes, how the glow of the fair’s lights accentuated her already mesmerizing features, but mainly, he was dying to know if those lips tasted like the most perfect red delicious apple since they were painted exactly like one.

“Anybody ever tell you that you have a staring problem, Sarge?” Bucky had to blink a couple of times to focus. The Ferris wheel car had stopped at the very top, Ellie had her chin propped on her fist, smiling up at him through her lashes. He shook his head, “I was just thinking,” Bucky moved in a little closer, reaching his arm around Ellie’s shoulders, “that you are the most fascinating woman I have ever met.” “He’s lost in a memory…” Ellie’s cheeks blushed, but she rolled her eyes, “oh stop. I bet that’s something you say to all the girls.” Fireworks started firing off into the sky, mirroring the evident spark between the two. “I don’t care what the hell has to be done! Get him out of it! Scramble him again if you have to!” Bucky’s nose scrunches as he smiles, his head tilted up slightly to look down at her, “no, no. My pickup lines are usually waaay cheesier.” He and Ellie both laugh in unison, muffled by the occasional loud pops of the fireworks. But the pair refused to look away from one another.

“But sir-” Leaning in, Bucky breathes in both the mixed carnival aromas and the beautiful floral scent that is Ellie’s perfume. Her eyes flutter close as her lips purse towards his- “I. Don’t. CARE! Do it! NOW!” [2013] Bucky is met with a swift, vigorous slap to the face. Blinking rapidly, his eyes painfully adjust to the fluorescent lights in the room. Once focused, he finds numerous pairs of hard eyes staring down at him. Bucky sheepishly looks down at his bare chest, flexing painfully against the tight restraints of his chair. The realization that it was in fact not 1943 and not his first date with Ellie was quickly confirmed by the surrounding HYDRA agents, all staring at him like he was some wild animal waiting to snap and tear through a village.

Although in retrospect, he may have done that once or twice. And secretly, he never minded having HYDRA blood on his hands. If that wasn’t confirmation enough, the skin on his left shoulder was taut- the built-up scar tissue irritated from the roughened edges of his metal arm. God, how he hated that fucking thing. Sure, getting used to any kind of prosthetic takes time to accept- if at all. But this was used with the sole purpose of turning Bucky into a weapon, and for that reason, he hated it and everything it stood for. At least, when he could remember. Which is why he was always restrained. Which is why he was brainwashed over and over again until he forgot his name. Which is why he was thrown on ice when he wasn’t of use, so they didn’t have to hear his endless screaming as he tore and ripped at the skin, praying it would be tarnished enough that they couldn’t make him a new arm. But they always made him a new arm.

Alexander Pierce stepped out from between a few of the agents, clad in an expensive gray suit that stood out against the sea of all black military grade HYDRA uniforms. “Where’d you go?” he asked nonchalantly, shoving his hands into his pockets. It’s not like he was genuinely curious about anything that didn’t pertain to his own interests. Bucky’s brow furrowed, his eyes glancing briefly in Pierce’s direction before looking down again, “n-nowhere…” he replied apprehensively, always cautious about giving personal details when he remembered them. Pierce huffed sarcastically under his breath. A smirk tugged on his lips as his eyes narrowed on Bucky, “wipe him,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand, “we’ll start fresh again tomorrow.” He wasn’t even fully done speaking before he spun on the heels of his dress shoes and was out the door.

The mechanical whirring from the machines surrounding Bucky’s now reclined chair grew antagonizingly loud. He could feel his lips uncontrollably twitch- and it took everything within his remaining willpower not to snarl as he reluctantly accepted the mouth guard the agent forced onto his teeth. Bucky’s chest already glistened with sweat as it heaved deeply, anxious for what was to come. His eyes widened at the sight of the all too familiar chrome halo that soon clasped securely around his head. He braced himself for the pain of his mind feeling like it was on literal fire by breathing around the mouthpiece and digging his heels. At least today, he remembered Ellie. Bucky just focused on the pure, rare beauty that she was sitting on top of the Ferris wheel that night- smiling at him like he was the only man in the world. Until it all went black. [Present Day]

He wasn’t sure if it was the sounds of his own screams or flailing around in his sleep that woke him from his nightmare. Or rather, memory. Bucky sat upright from the living room floor, tangled up in his blanket. His eyes traced the room, taking in the primarily dark apartment aside from the faint glow of the television. He felt hot, despite only sleeping in his boxers and his skin shining with a thick layer of sweat. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, even though he desperately took in quick, ragged breaths. Bucky felt so lost, even though he had been found. Even with being free of HYDRA and breaking from the control that anyone could have over him after spending time in Wakanda, he didn’t feel as though anyone truly knew him. Hell, he wasn’t even sure who he was after it all was stripped away. The only people who understood Bucky were Steve and Ellie, and they’re both gone. A small ‘meow’ came from Bucky’s side, making her presence known before gently rubbing her head against his thigh. Well, maybe there was one who understood him.

Letting out the pent-up air in his lungs, Bucky picked up the petite white cat and cradled her against his chest, “Sorry, pretty girl,” he actively softened his voice, “did I wake you?” He gently ran his hand over her head and down her neck, immediately pulling purrs from Alpine. He sighed to himself but continued to concentrate on petting her as his accelerated heart rate started to come back down. Alpine’s purrs grew louder as she started making biscuits against his thighs, making herself nice and comfy before drifting to sleep in his lap. At least one of us will be able to sleep tonight.

As expected, he didn’t fall back asleep. Instead, Bucky replayed the distant clashing memories over and over in his head until the sun started peeking through the windows. At the break of dawn, he jumped into the shower in hopes of washing the night away. As Bucky stood in the shower, letting the tiny streams of water encase around him, he realized just how much he missed his old life. That version of him and how often his mind drifted to a time where he used to belong. In that moment, he decided he was going to use today to go to his old stomping grounds, reminisce and allow himself to truly grieve that part of his life.

Throwing on a pair of dark wash jeans, a grey T-shirt and a black leather jacket, Bucky locked the door to his apartment and made his way through The Compound. Leaning against the wall near the entrance was Loki, seemingly keeping to himself. He noticed Bucky though as soon as he stalked into view. His skin looked pale, his blue eyes dull and lifeless above the prominent dark circles underneath. Bucky’s nightmares and lack of sleep were something that the team was all too familiar with. They each collectively had their own demons that haunted dark rooms and spoke through the walls in the lonely hours late at night. “Isn’t it just a tad early,” Loki stood to his full height, “to seem this aloof already, James?” Bucky regarded Loki as he kept walking. “Yeah,” his earnest tone matching his gloomy mood as the door automatically opened.

The bright, warm sun was a stark contrast to the cold, dark night that Bucky just had.

Standing at the edge of a small, curved road in the park that overlooked the Brooklyn Bridge, Bucky took in all the sights and sounds. It was strange to him how much the city had evolved and yet, some things were still the same. People passed, not paying him any mind. Friends gossiped over their morning coffee on a nearby bench, the runners attempted to get that last mile in before the day got too hot, couples walked by holding hands, and families pushed large strollers with smiley babies. It all sounded the same, but nothing was as it used to be. The intrusive thoughts felt heavier today as he continued to watch and take it all in, reminiscing about the times he and Steve used to drink beers at the bottom of that very bridge. Or rather, Bucky would try and convince Steve to drink. But he never did. Bucky and his sister used to play in this very park- though it looks different now. It sometimes was still difficult to differentiate what was a memory or a daydream he had conjured up to disassociate.

"Vader!" If he squinted his eyes just enough, he could see where his family's old town home used to stand in the distance before it was bulldozed down. "No! Don't- You're going to make me-" The sound of a heavy thud made Bucky look over his shoulder. On the ground a few feet behind him was a small cardboard box with the top cut off, lying on its side. Scattered all around and halfway in the box, was an assortment of wildflowers. "Damn it, Vader!" An annoyed voice grumbled before sighing heavily.

Giving the apparent mess a once over, Bucky breathed deeply through his nostrils before turning around and taking a knee- putting the box right side up before starting to subtly pick up the flowers. "Sit!" The sound of nails scratching against the asphalt came to a stop, only to be replaced with heavy panting. Bucky glanced over briefly to see a rather large German Shepherd watching proudly as he picked up the flowers. "God, thank you so much for your help! I'm just having one of those days. No thanks to this one here either." The woman's voice sounded slightly exasperated.

"No problem," Bucky replied, trying to look up but the sun blared straight into his eyes, momentarily blocking the person with whom he was speaking. After picking up the last few flowers, he tossed them into the box as he stood up. His height gave him the advantage of no longer having the sun in his face and he finally was able to see the person he's been interacting with. Bucky stops breathing- eyes widening in disbelief. Eleanor. It was her, and yet it wasn't. Her skin was evenly tanned, her golden hair long with a slight wave to it framing her face, dressed in matching yoga pants and sports tank as she clung tightly to the dog’s leash to keep him in place. "I spent my whole morning picking those," she gestured towards the box, "and this lunatic has been dragging me everywhere in between," she explains, embarrassed. Bucky is still staring, just blinking occasionally, skeptical that this is real.

Clearing her throat softly at what she perceived to be awkwardness, she picks up the box. "Thanks again!" she remarked politely, starting to turn away to leave. "W-what-" Bucky started, causing her to hesitate. He took a small step forward, "are those for?" he pointed to the box. It was the first thing that came to his mind, he had to keep her there for just a little while longer. He needed to know more. Smiling as she turned back to face him, Bucky's stomach twisted. It's the same smile. "I'm a teacher and anytime I'm here I grab some for my students," she shrugged nonchalantly. "I can usually come up with some kind of craft or whatever to make use of them." "You're a teacher?" "Mhm! Elementary." Down to the same damned occupation. "You... come here often? With your dog?" Bucky awkwardly motioned towards the German Shepherd. "Oh, um... Well," She laughed. Oh no. He feared that his question made her uncomfortable. "This is Vader," she runs her hand over the dog's head a few times, "but he's not mine. Just watching him for some friends while they're away."

Bucky looks over Vader, the corner of his lips tugging into a small smile before fixating on the woman again. "I'm sorry, " she starts, her eyes narrowing slightly as her head tilts in inquisition, "but do I know you? You just look so familiar..." He swallowed the large lump in his throat, "Uh, no? Nope, I don't think so." "Huh," she muttered to herself, continually examining his blue eyes. Clearing her throat, she holds out her hand "I'm Elena, but my friends call me Ellie." Taking her petite hand in his gloved one, he carefully shakes her hand. "Ellie," Bucky repeats, incredulously. "James, but my friends call me Bucky." "Bucky." Elena mirrors his tone. Her eyes drift down to his chest momentarily, spotting his dog tags. "And you're military?" A small snort escapes as he grins, "former Sergeant in the 107th." "Interesting," Ellie responded, continuing to search his crystal blue eyes as if it would magically reveal as to why she felt magnetized by this man's presence. Looking down, Bucky realized they were still holding onto one another's hand. His eyebrows raised, an amused smile eclipsing his former expression. The pair chuckled once, letting go. "Well," Ellie said, fidgeting with the dog leash in her hands, "It was nice meeting you. Thanks again," her voice sheepish as she shifted the cardboard box under her arm. "Nice meeting you too, Ellie," Bucky agreed. There was something about the way he said her name, how smoothly it rolled off his tongue that just felt so... intimate. Like he did in fact know her. That there was a secret between them that she was dying to know. Giving him a hopeful smile, she turned to walk away- Vader following at her side, "Hope to see you around, Sergeant!" Ellie called over her shoulder, giving a small wave.

Bucky watched Elena walking away, left utterly astounded by the interaction that had just occurred. Two images from two separate times seemed to overlap- Ellie from today, and Ellie with the tight curls and red lips in the yellow polka dot dress. A form of Deja vu. But one thing was for sure, he made it his mission to see her again.

Later that evening at The Compound, Bucky stood at the counter in the kitchen holding a small drinking glass filled with ice and whiskey. The recent encounter from this morning consumed him and all of his thoughts. Which is why he didn’t notice Loki casually walk into the kitchen as well. Loki found this to be peculiar, since Bucky was the type to at least give an acknowledging scowl. “Penny for your thoughts?” Loki inquired, his voice low. Bucky swirled the ice in the glass before peeking up at him, “I had something… strange happen to me today.” “Oh?” “I uh-” Bucky sighed, putting the glass down a little harder than intended. “I swear I bumped into someone from my past. But it makes no sense. She would have to be, what? Over a hundred years old? It was her but it wasn’t her.” His hands expressed the bafflement he felt through their motions.

“You’re over a hundred, James.” Loki reminded. Bucky’s eyes narrowed, “yeah, I know.” He asserted. “But this was different. I don’t know how to explain it.” “Hmm.” Loki hummed to himself, looking over Bucky. Taking a step forward, extending out his hand out, “show me.” “Show you?” Bucky retorted, disgruntled by the question. “And just how would I do that?” Loki grinned, “I was raised by Witches, boy. There are many things I can see that people don’t understand.” Without waiting for an answer, Loki took Bucky’s flesh hand and pressed it flat between his. “What are you-” “Shh!” Loki planted his feet firmly, looking into Bucky’s eyes- which widened with concern. What would Loki see looking into his mind? His memories? Would he recount the same faces and what he’d done to them that haunt Bucky every single night? He suddenly felt overwhelmed with anxiety. Bucky stared back at Loki- his normal cobalt blue eyes started to glow a bright green. “Ah,” Loki breathed, “found it.” Flashbacks of today as well as the carnival shared between the two as a birds-eye view, like watching Bucky’s memories as if they were a movie. “Tell me, James,” Loki smirked while watching the images, “do you know what reincarnation is?” “What? Like being born again?” Bucky spat, feeling ridiculous. Loki laughed, “I’m afraid it’s much more in depth than people think.” Bucky raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain further. “Rare is it that one is given such an opportunity.” Loki breathed, astounded.

Rolling his eyes, Bucky sighs, “What the fuck are you even trying to say here, Loki?” “I’m saying,” he kept his voice low, trying to maintain patience, “that this universe somehow deemed you worthy of a second chance… with your soulmate.” “Soulmate?!” Bucky’s voice was loud, incredulous. “I haven’t seen this before,” Loki answered, fascinated at the scenes playing before them, “A soul brought back in the same lifetime to make up for time lost. Destiny can be a finicky thing.” “You’re saying that we were meant to be together all those years ago?” Bucky swallowed hard, his stomach twisting inward on itself. “Yes. And decisions made that weren’t your own affected that outcome. You’ve been given the opportunity to actually live out your true fate.” The eerie green glow faded from Bucky’s eyes as Loki pulled his hands away. He saw many things but decided to only show Bucky what pertained to this conversation. The screams already a sound he knew he wouldn’t forget anytime soon. The two always had a mutual understanding of each other. They typically got along, more so than the rest of the team. Their history often left preconceived tension with people, but they never judged one another. Just themselves. “So,” Bucky scratched the back of his head, “what do I do now?” “You, my friend,” Loki gripped Bucky’s shoulder, “go get a happy ending.”

If you enjoyed this, please check out my Masterlist. Requests are open!

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[ellethespaceunicorn]

Something Old, Something New

Title: Something Old, Something New

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Nick Fowler x Reader

Fandom: The 355

Word Count: 9.5K (whoopsie)

Summary: Your childhood best friend invites you to your old vacation spot for her wedding, and you have been catching up with your first crush: her recently divorced big brother Nick.

Warnings: infidelity, divorce, recreational drug use (marijuana), drinking, mutual pining, pet names (Gumdrop, baby), praise kink, cunnilingus, unprotected p-in-v sex, mention of bodily fluids (creampie), public sex, if I forgot anything please tell me

A/N1: My tiles for @thebasementspouses VOTM Nick Fowler BINGO were: divorced, best friend’s brother, writer’s choice(prompt #802 from @creativepromptsforwriting), drunken confession, public sex. BINGO card at end of story.

A/N2: I have been working on this story for weeks and I really hope I have done the Nick Fowler fandom justice. It's my first time, and hopefully not the last time, writing for Nick. I thoroughly enjoyed writing him. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

Three Months Ago

The cardstock was rigid in your hands, the envelope discarded seconds ago. The confetti in the envelope litters around your Chucks as you bring your attention to the words embossed upon the invitation. You had been waiting for this day ever since you received the Save the Date announcement.

You ran your finger over the pretty lettering, its raised borders were a nice tactile touch. The peaceful pink, whispered white, and mellow merlot of the flowers against a hint of golden accents was a beautiful choice. Not too feminine, nor too masculine.

Turning the invitation over, you found more information. 

‘Accommodations will be completely covered for your 8-night stay at The Ocracoke Harbor Inn by the family of the Bride. You will be staying in the fully-furnished Treasure Chest Cottage. Amenities include full-service linens, complimentary wireless Internet, and guest boat docking. Guests have access to a sound-side beach. Password for WI-FI given upon check-in. Nonsmoking, no pets.’

Leave it to the Fowlers to go nuts and rent out the entire inn for their only daughter’s wedding, you thought to yourself. You were not surprised at all, growing up as a rich girl’s best friend had its perks.

As if on cue, your phone started to play the opening notes of Losing You by Solange to signal an incoming call. Pulling your phone out, you smiled seeing Deanne’s name. You clicked Accept and raised the phone to your ear.

“Hello to the future Mrs. Alexander!” Your cheery demeanor not letting on how jealous you were of your friend’s impending nuptials.

Euphonious laughter rings through the earpiece and you can’t help but join in.

“Girl, can you believe it? I am about to tie the knot, be off the market, and settle down. I’m only 12% nervous about everything so I’m doing great,” she snorted, and suddenly you were a bit less jealous if this kind of anxiety is what she had to deal with, “Anyway, um, I was giving you a call because I wanted to ask if you got your invitation and I also wanted to see if I could save myself time in waiting for your R.S.V.P. and bug and pester you until you agree to let my parents pay for you to come spend a week with us and come to my wedding and–”

“Deanne! Stop with the run-on sentence, doll. Did you think I was gonna pass up this opportunity? God, I love that you chose Ocracoke as your wedding destination. So many vacations were spent getting into all kinds of trouble,” you recalled, images of splashing in the water as kids and lounging on the beach as teens replayed in your mind.

“Yeah. Hey, when we were little girls planning our dream weddings, I was serious when I said I wanted it on the beach on Ocracoke Island. But not in the summer because of bugs and heat, but in the winter so we get that beautiful off-season fresh air,” Deanne mused.

“Dee, it’s gonna be gorgeous. I cannot wait to see you in your stunning dress walking down that aisle. Just know that since I am your oldest friend, you pretty much owe me the bouquet,” you laughed, only half-joking.

“As far as I’m concerned, it’s already yours,” she bantered, clearing her throat before speaking again, “So, I also called because I wanted to vent a little, if that’s okay?”

“It’s always okay. You doing alright?” you asked, now worried that your friend was in trouble.

“Yeah, no, I’m fine. I have an update on Nick and Tori, though,” she paused, allowing your mind to wander.

The mention of your first crush’s name sent a shiver down your back. Many a moment had been wasted thinking about his pretty smile and grayish-blue eyes. You’d liked Nick before you knew you even liked boys. He was the heartthrob that trumped every teen dream of every other girl in America’s heart. In your mind, he was the closest to perfect you could imagine. 

You responded, “Oh?”

“So, their divorce is finalized. My big brother is officially a divorcé. I would have thought that a man who was with someone for so long might be partying it up right now. But he says he’s focusing on work and, I don’t know. I just want him to be happy. And like, he’s getting divorced as I’m getting married and it feels so weird. It doesn’t seem fair,” she lamented.

“Dee, come on. You know Nicky wouldn’t want you to think like that. He loves you. You’re his favorite sibling,” you jested, trying to lighten the mood.

“Ha ha. I’m his only sibling. I better be his favorite,” Dee chuckled, happy to be distracted, “So that brings me to you, Miss Missy. Last I heard, you were dating some engineer guy? Do I get to meet him soon?”

You inwardly cringed, hopes dashed of being able to avoid the topic of your relationship status. Things with Curtis kind of fizzled out when you found his tongue down an intern’s throat. You had been bringing him dinner since he’d complained about the late nights at the office.

Turns out he was hungry for more than your baked ziti. 

You explained all this to Dee, remembering the look on Curtis’ face when you poured the prepared food into his lap. He was so shook, it was beautiful.

“I didn’t want to waste all that food but he looked wonderful with my pasta all over his shirt and pants. He honestly deserved it. It was his favorite shirt too. I hope those stains never come out,” you huffed, feeling like you were right back in that office again.

“I have never been so proud of you. I wish I could put hot sauce in his underwear for hurting my girl. I’m sure if I just had a few minutes, I could come up with something more diabolical than that. But it’s what I have at a moment’s notice,” she retorted.

One thing you could always count on Dee for? Getting angry for you and using her beautiful and educated mind to come up with some way to make the person who slighted you pay for their misdeeds. It was both adorable and super embarrassing to have her tiny frame looking up into some bully’s face pointing her finger at them.

“Well, I appreciate your offer, but he is so not worth the energy. You have much better things to think about, like your wedding day. This is your cue to stop worrying about me, Dee,” you advised, a stern tone coloring your words.

“Fine, I will stop worrying about you out loud. You got it, girl. Anyway, I won’t hold you. Talk soon, ok? I miss you,” she said, and you could envision her getting bleary-eyed.

“I miss you too, Dee. We’ll get together soon, I promise,” you sighed, feeling guilty for letting your friendship dwindle over the years.

“I’ll hold you to it. Bye, babe,” she hummed.

“Bye.” You hang up the phone and close your eyes. Visions of what Dee will look like in her wedding dress cloud your thoughts. Little snippets of grayish-blue eyes and dark brown hair seep in and you can almost hear his laugh again. You open your eyes, blinking away the mental images that brought you joy for a moment.

‘This is fine,’ you thought to yourself. Yeah, totally. You’re only going to see your best friend from childhood get married, effectively ending your childhood with a pretty bow on top. You also were only going to be with the biggest crush you ever had for like, an entire week. 

And he’s single. 

And probably needy. 

And...you had better get your jaw up off the floor if you were going to get anything done.

Three months is enough time to get your brain, your body, and your emotions in check before you make a fool out of yourself in front of your second family.

Right?

January 20th, 2024 – Day One

Standing on the deck of the Hatteras Ferry, you watch as Ocracoke Island comes into view. The sun is at its highest and you are thankful for your sunglasses shielding the the bright sunlight bouncing off the crystal clear waters. You can taste the salty air and you are instantly transported to memories of running around the decks of this ferry with Deanne and Nick while your mothers tried in vain to wrangle you all.

The island comes into view and you search the docks for a familiar face. Dee promised to meet you at the docks, but when you approach them she is nowhere to be found. You pull your luggage behind you as your shoulder bag decides to slide off.

Before it can hit the ground, it’s caught by the strap by a strong hand at the same time you reach out to grab it. You thank the kind stranger as you both stand to your full height and you are face-to-face with a grown-ass Nicholas Fowler. He says something and you don’t hear hide nor hair of what the hell he just said, you look at him and break into a smile and he chuckles and speaks again.

“I hope you don’t mind Dee got me to pick you up. She had some wedding stuff to do. I wasn’t listening,” he explains, adjusting his sunglasses and putting your bag on his shoulder. He gestures over to his black Lamborghini Urus. 

Once you walk over, he puts your shoulder bag in the back seat. You step closer to him to hand him your rolling luggage. You are mesmerized as his strong forearms flex when he puts everything in the SUV. 

You clear your throat and look around when he looks back at you, catching you watching him. He closes the back door and guides you to the passenger side, opening your door for you.

“Oh, you’re a full-service driver today, huh?” you joke, stepping past him. Your platform espadrilles clacking on the asphalt. Adjusting your strapless sundress, you climb in.

“Whatever service you require, Gumdrop,” he replies with a smile, making sure you are comfortable before closing your door.

That fucking nickname… He would call you gumdrop instead of your name more often than not. That’s all, he didn’t mean anything by it, right?

When you are both buckled in, you start the drive across the island. Comfortable conversation is easy between you two. It’s like you fall back into a safe space with him. You talk about old vacations, funny moments, and what you both are up to these days. Neither of you mentions either of your failed relationships and you can’t keep the smile off of your face.

“Hey, we still have an hour until check-in. You wanna grab a bite or go to the beach or something?” he suggests.

“Are you sure they’re not waiting for us?” you counter, wondering if it’s a good idea to have a little moment with Nick all to yourself.

“I’d rather ask for forgiveness than permission. No pressure, just a suggestion,” he presses, taking a second to look over at you and smile that smile that has had you in a chokehold most of your life.

After thinking about it for all of five seconds, you agree to have lunch at Plum Pointe Kitchen. You enjoy a generous helping of Drunken Chicken nachos while Nick gets the VooDoo Shrimp PO’Boy. You share half of your meal, and Nick refuses to let you pay for anything.

Making your way to the Ocracoke Harbor Inn after lunch, you finally meet up with everyone. Dee is in mid-conversation with someone when she sees you and Nick pull up into the parking lot. She walks over to you and pulls you into a very tight embrace. It’s like everything was chaos before you got here.

“Oh my goodness, I am so glad you are here. How was the trip? Did you eat? Did Nick bore you? I’m sorry that I couldn’t come and meet you, but we had a little mishap with the reservation for the hotel and then I thought I left my wedding dress at home, and then we–”

You cut off Dee before she can work herself into a frenzy again, “Dee! Breathe. You’re gonna be fine, I promise. And is that Matthew? Introduce me already, would you?” you encourage, trying to get your friend’s mind off of the previous debacle and onto the man walking over.

Dee introduces you to Matthew and he charms you with the way he dotes on Dee. He seems like the type to be able to handle her rambling and intense emotions. How he looks at her while she speaks makes you miss having someone look at you like that.

“Well, it’s just about 3 o’clock now. Let’s get checked in and settled, then we can get together later?” Matthew chimes in.

“Sounds good,” Nick agrees, turning to you, “Go ahead and leave your stuff in my car. I’ll take you to your cottage after we are all checked in.” You nod, trying to hide your excitement. 

Once you are done with the receptionist, you get your key and the wifi password to your cottage. While waiting for everyone else to get done, you fiddle on your phone until Nick’s shadow looms over you. Looking up, you are greeted with his eyes no longer shielded by his sunglasses in the dim lobby.

“You ready, Gumdrop? We still have some time before Mom and Dad show up. And I think I remember Dee saying she would call when she was ready to go out,” he concludes, putting his hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was nervous about something. But you don’t push.

“All set,” you say, smiling up at him feeling bold enough to wrap your arm around his while you walk out of the lobby.

Dee shouts after you to behave yourselves and tense up a bit while Nick chuckles, seemingly amused by his sister’s thinly veiled comment on two single adults being close. Damn them.

Nick opens the passenger side door for you again, closing it once you are safely inside. He drives to the Margaritaville Cottage where he will stay with his parents during the trip. He instructs you to stay in the car while he just drops his bags off and is back outside in a few minutes.

The next stop is your cottage, called the Treasure Chest. You snicker at the name, thinking it sounded more like a pirate-themed strip joint. When Nick asks what you’re laughing about, you tell him your thoughts on the name of where you are staying. The slow smile that spreads on his face makes you involuntarily clench your thighs, wondering what his days-old stubble would feel like between your legs.

He tilts his head just slightly at you, then turns back to the road, smile still intact. Luckily the drive is short as the cottages are fairly close to one another. Nick parks in the driveway and you both get out and stretch your legs. He comes around and grabs your shoulder bag and luggage, motioning for you to lead the way.

Walking up the steps to the door, you unlock it and are welcomed by the scent of fresh linen. The central air of the cottage is just this side of perfect and you drop your purse on the dining room table. Turning around, you see Nick walking into a room off of the living room.

“Holy shit, you got a King-sized bed,” he shouts from the bedroom.

Walking in, you sit at the foot of the bed next to Nick and start to untie your shoes. He follows suit and turns to you biting his lip, a question at the tip of his tongue.

Facing him, you ask, “What? Do I have something on my face?” 

“No. I, uh...I’m surprised you haven’t asked yet,” he notes. At your confusion, he holds up his left ring finger. A band of untanned skin around the base clues you in that he’s talking about his divorce.

“Nicky, I would never make you talk about it. It can’t be easy in that situation. I mean, I only broke up with Curtis a few months ago and we were only together for six months. I couldn’t imagine how a divorce feels after how long you and Tori were together,” you insist, placing a hand on his knee.

He covers your hand with his and nods. “Mom and Dad are pretty good about it. They don’t ask me how I’m doing with that sad look in their eyes anymore. But Dee? Jesus, when I told her about the incident, she was out for blood. I had to end up calming her down. All because someone broke her big bro’s heart. Love her, but she can get a little carried away,” he finishes.

“This is not to make you feel like you need to share, but you mentioned “the incident” and now I’m curious. Feel free to tell me to shut the fuck up. But I caught Curtis with his tongue down another woman’s throat. I don’t know for sure how long it had been going on or if they had done anything else together, but I knew at that moment that I was done. I am worth more than that. And so are you, Nicky,” you encourage, feeling a bit of weight lift off your shoulders after finally talking about your breakup.

“My situation was similar. Tori had been cheating on me for the last two years of our marriage with her boss. I had a feeling something was up, just didn’t want to believe it was something like this,” he reveals, continuing, “But I am moving on, so to speak. I’m not holding out anymore for her to come crawling back to me with a sad story and all that. Even though I hope that she falls in a sinkhole.”

You both laugh and continue talking, taking your minds off of your breakups. You reminisce about all of the times you’ve stayed on the island during vacations. You giggle over dumb stories of you all as teens in high school, hiding weed from your parents and drinking on the beach til it was time to sneak back into the hotel.

You get an idea and you tell Nick to give you a minute before you go back into the living room to retrieve your purse. Coming back into the bedroom, you pull out a vape pen and wiggle it in front of Nick’s face, a devilish smirk on your lips.

“We’ll just take one hit each and we will be fine. Just a bit more mellow,” you offer, pulling him to the balcony off of the living room. You each occupy a wicker chair and you hand over the device.

“Gumdrop, you little devil,” he takes the pen from you and inhales, closing his eyes and holding the smoke in his lungs before letting it out. The smoke dissipates quickly and you can see the weight lift off of his shoulders. Handing it back to you, he exhales loudly and leans back in his chair.

Putting the tip in your mouth, you hit the button and inhale. Warm vapor fills you and you release the button, holding in the smoke for a beat and then letting it out toward the sky. You put the pen down on the table between you and fold your legs under you, letting your dress cascade down.

Sitting in companionable silence with Nick feels great. Neither of you feels the need to talk while you listen to the sounds of nature around you. People walking around the cottages, cars driving by, and the distant waves from Pamlico Sound make you wish you had gone to the beach earlier.

“Fuck, that was only one hit and I feel like my bones are made of jelly,” you remark, swaying to a song that isn’t playing with your eyes closed.

Nick looks over to you and smiles, “Must be jelly ‘cause jam don’t shake like that.”

You open your eyes and turn to him, your mouth twitches before you break out into uncontrollable laughter. Nick soon follows and you both are taken over by the giggles. You settle down soon enough, still feeling the buzzing calmness of being high.

“The world needs more people like you,” you beam.

“Nah, I like being unique,” he replies, his phone chiming. Picking up a video call from Dee, “Hey Sis.”

“Hey, me and Matt were gonna go for dinner and drinks, you in?” she asks.

“Yeah, that sounds...good,” Nick answers for himself while looking at you to get your answer.

“Ok, well get ready and meet us at Oyster Company. And tell my best friend that she is coming, no ifs, ands, or buts. See you both soon!” With that, she ends the call.

“So...our decision has been made for us. Do you need to change or anything?” Nick wonders, gesturing to your traveling attire.

“If I take this dress off, I am not going out. Besides, I like this dress. I think I look positively adorable. But I will change my shoes to something more comfortable,” you finish before Nick can comment on how he also likes your dress. You pick up the vape pen, make your way back to your luggage, and pull out some flat sandals.

Once you are ready, you make your way back outside and are surprised to see Dee and Matt parked on the street outside of your cottage. “We decided to pick you up. Matt is DD tonight, so we can all get a little loosey-goosey. Plus, I can always tell when Nick is high, so get in losers!”

Nick snorts, and you are mortified to be found out, but you quickly get over it once you are in the backseat of Matt’s Audi Q4. The short ride to the restaurant was spent with Nick’s left leg brushing against your right leg. He was either manspreading or he wanted to touch you and wanted to keep it under the radar.

Either way, you were excited to feel his warmth next to you.

When you make it to the restaurant, you sit at a high table and it almost feels like a double date. Especially when your waitress congratulates Dee and Matt on their wedding while remarking that you and Nick make a cute couple as well. Your face warms up and you suddenly feel like every eye is on you. 

Nick comes to your rescue, answering the waitress with a smile, “My girl’s a bit shy, is all. Can we get a pitcher of beer for the table to start? And also two shots of Crown Royal Vanilla for me and the little lady. Thanks.”

If it was possible, you would have melted through the floor and evaporated, but instead, you just hide behind the menu until Nick pokes his head in.

“That wasn’t to embarrass you, I swear. But I got nervous that she was gonna try and flirt with me, so I dragged you under the proverbial bus with me,” he admits, his lopsided smile only making you want him more.

“Fine. You’ll just have to make it up to me,” you warn, a devious grin appearing on your face. 

You put down your menu just as the waitress comes back with the drinks. Taking both shots, you hand one to Nick. Staring in each other’s eyes, you clink your shot glasses and then tap them on the table before taking the shot. The sweet burn of the liquor warms you from within while Nick’s eyes on you melt whatever nerves you had previously.

A cleared throat breaks your trance, your focus changing from Nick to Dee.

“I talked to Mom and Dad and they won’t get here ‘til Friday afternoon with the rest of the guests. Dad said he had a few things to take care of and not to worry. Of course, I worry tenfold because he told me not to,” Dee interjects, busying herself with pouring beer into her frosted glass.

“Baby, they’ll be here as soon as they can. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about anything,” Matt insists, moving a strand of hair away from Dee’s face before kissing her.

“Promise to keep me occupied?” she requests, a sinful smile on her face.

“I do,” he jokes, clearly proud of himself for making his fiancée blush.

“First of all, how dare you? Secondly, that was almost too cute so watch yourself,” she laughs.

You roll your eyes at the happy couple and smile, going back to looking over the menu. The waitress comes back to the table and takes your orders. Over the meal, you get to know Matt a bit more and you can see how Dee fell in love with him. He’s intelligent, funny, and charismatic. The way he talks about and to her makes you so happy to know your friend found love.

When they turn to talk to each other, you and Nick spark up a conversation about work. He tells you what he can about working for the government, keeping the specific details to himself. You regale him with stories of your time as a freelance writer. You’ve written for dozens of publications, but you just want to get your original works out there for people to enjoy. 

After mentioning a few pieces you wrote for GQ, Nick expressed interest in reading your articles. You try and downplay your skills, but he presses you for the links. Taking out your phone, you realize that you don’t have his number. 

While you exchange digits with Nick, you are too busy to notice Dee casting a sidelong glance and smiling to herself. You ramble on as you send him link after link of some of your favorites. With your face in your phone, you don’t notice the way Nick looks at you with a mix of pride and hunger.

“Well, I am ready to call it a night,” Dee yawns, getting everyone’s attention, “But I could use a nightcap. Who’s up for a trip to the ABC Store? We can make it before they close.”

Everyone agrees and after the check is paid, you all pile into Matt’s SUV for the quick drive to the liquor store. You browse the aisles for a bit by yourself. Filling up your basket with a bottle of wine, some whiskey, and a six-pack of hard seltzers, you surmise that this will sustain you for the week ahead and go in search of the others.

You find Nick in front of the beer cooler, hard at work trying to decide between a 12-pack of Sam Adams’ Cold Snap and Harpoon’s Long Thaw. You suggest he get both and he agrees.

Meeting Dee and Matt up at the front of the store, you stand next to Nick in line and he laughs at the contents of your shopping basket. He puts his beer up for the cashier to scan and has you do the same, paying for your items. 

A little piece of you feels taken care of and you thank him while continuing to tell him he doesn’t have to. He just shushes you and says you can make it up to him later. Before your mind can think about what that might entail, the sale is rung and bagged. Nick picks up the beer and you grab the bag of your things.

Nick asks Matt to just drop him off at your cottage since he left his car there. His cottage is literally next door, but you’re not exactly gonna deny yourself the company. Dee and Matt drive away and you turn back to Nick. You both laugh nervously and you surprise yourself by speaking up.

“So, um. I was gonna have a weed and whiskey moment to myself, but I’d be willing to share if you’re interested,” you hint, watching as he weighs his options. 

“Lead the way, Gumdrop,” he replies.

He follows you in, closing the door behind him. He puts his beer into the fridge along with your hard seltzer. You put the wine on the counter and take out the whiskey while Nick finds two short glasses in the cabinet. Pouring a generous amount in each one, he offers you a drink and you take a sip of the amber liquid. 

Letting the whiskey sit in your mouth, you savor the hints of vanilla and spice. You reach in your purse for your vape pen and take a hit of it before offering it to Nick. Taking a long pull off of the pen, he exhales and you watch as his shoulders relax. You both take another sip of whiskey and revel in the dual flavors of the weed and whiskey.

You take your glass and the bottle, moving onto the patio off of the living room, and sit down in one of the wicker chairs while Nick takes the other. The conversation comes easily enough. Mostly high thoughts and random memories come to mind. After a while, you put on some music and when 6 Underground by Sneaker Pimps comes on, you can’t help but dance in your chair.

Nick stares while you close your eyes and move your hands to the trip-hop classic. You spend the entire song moving to the downtempo beat and enjoying your crossfade. The trance you were under slowly dissipates as the song ends and Pendulum by FKA Twigs starts.

When you open your eyes, Nick is pulling you to stand up. You’re lost as to what he is doing until his hands go to yours, pulling them to rest around his neck while he holds your hips. As the song continues, you follow his slow lead and sway to the intimate and mesmerizing indie hit.

🎶

You're younger than I am broken

I dance feelings like they're spoken

So my conversation's not enough

So lonely trying to be yours

Running through sliding doors

So lonely trying to be yours

When you're looking for so much more

🎶

By the time the song ends, the heat between you is unmistakable. Your hand tangles in his hair when he pulls you impossibly closer. Mere centimeters separate your lips. All you would need is to lean just one step closer and you’d finally get to taste his kiss.

Nick beats you to it and his hands pull your face to his, crashing your lips together. You can’t hold back the moan that escapes your lips and he swallows it adding in his own grunts and groans. Kiss after kiss, you radiate carnality and passion. 

Breaking the kiss, you watch as he licks his puffy bottom lip. You take in a breath of air and prepare to dive back in but Nick voices his thoughts.

“You are gonna be the death of me, Gumdrop,” he sighs, and at your brows furrowing he continues, “You’ve only been back in my life for a day and I’m already thinking of ways to keep you in it. Don’t hate me, but I think we should chill out, just for tonight. I swear, if you still want this by tomorrow night, I am all yours. But you better be all mine. Please, tell me you can wait for me?”

“Tomorrow night and you’re all mine?” you plead, and he nods.

“Less than 24 hours, baby. Show me that these feelings aren’t just from the substances in our system,” he insists, and you wanna fuck him even more now after he says that.

You nod and he speaks up, “Need to hear your words, baby, like a big girl.”

“Fuck...yes, I can wait. I can wait for you, Nicky,” you whimper and he rests his forehead against yours. 

“That’s my good girl,” he praises, lifting his head from yours, “Now, why don’t we call it a night before I go back on my word? You look so good in this dress and I really wanna be good.”

Agreeing with him, you clean up your empty glasses and move the bottle to the counter next to the wine. Nick pulls you into him one last time, snaking a hand down to your ass and grabbing a hefty portion of it before a hardy slap lands on your left cheek. He only snickers at your yelp and nibbles on your bottom lip. 

“Keep that same energy for me because tomorrow I’m not holding back,” he vows, and if you weren’t leaning into him, your legs would’ve surely buckled. If he notices the tremble go through your body, he makes no mention of it and for that you are grateful.

“Goodnight, Nicky,” you hum.

“Sleep tight, Gumdrop. And do me a favor?” he challenges, at your nod he continues, “Save it for me. I’m gonna take care of you tomorrow, so no need to touch that kitty tonight, right?”

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, “Right.”

He leaves and once the door is closed, you lean back against it, your hand going to your neck where your pulse is playing a sick beat against your skin.

Less than 24 hours, you think. You got this.

That night, you dream of grayish-blue eyes and large hands roaming your body.

January 21st, 2024 – Day Two 

You wake just before 10:30 am and are greeted with a good morning text from Nick. He lets you know that he is taking you out, just the two of you. Since Dee and Matt are enjoying a couple’s spa package, he figures it would only be right to hit some of your favorite places on the island.

You are dressed and out the door by noon. Nick takes you to pick up lunch at Taqueria 504 Suazo’s and you drive out to rent a Jeep Gladiator at for a few hours to drive on the beach. One of the best things about this island is that everything is so close. After 5 minutes, you are at your destination. 

Nick drives out a ways past the other people enjoying the off-season and stops about a minute after the last two fishermen you see. Guess he wanted a secluded spot, you think to yourself. While you get the food, Nick grabs the beach chairs and umbrella that he rented. The ocean breeze is agreeable enough, but you are glad that you brought a thin sweater to keep the chill off.

Once you sit down, you hand over Nick’s food and he digs into his burrito while you munch on your fish tacos. When your meal is finished, Nick puts your leftovers in the Gladiator and lets down the truck bed. He beckons you over and helps you sit on the edge and he climbs up and sits next to you while you both look at the water.

“Ya know, the last time we came out here I was just finishing my third year at Virginia Tech. You and Dee were seniors. I remember hoping upon hope that you would apply to VT and I remember you telling me you were accepting a scholarship from Princeton. I just sucked it up and congratulated you. Even though I was hoping you would understand why I wanted you close, I was so proud of you for venturing off on your own. You were always one to go after what you wanted. I just couldn’t stop wanting to be what you wanted,” he confesses, looking off into the water.

“I wanted you, Nicky. Trust me, I did. But I was so afraid that I had a dumb little crush on someone who would never see me as someone other than his little sister’s best friend. The last time I saw you, I thought it was right to push away the idea of you ever having feelings for me. I also may have been afraid of what Dee would say. She’s kind of protective over both of us, ya know?” you finish.

“That girl can be a vicious little thing when she wants to,” he chuckles, shaking his head, “But don’t you think it’s kind of a sign that she had me pick you up from the ferry? And how suddenly today, we have a free schedule to do whatever we want together? I know my sister, and she’s done this before. She matched me up with my high school girlfriend, Beth.”

“Ugh, Beth with the braces and bangs. I used to call her Triple B behind your back. I hated her so much,” you mutter, trying to push the image of them kissing out of your mind.

“Yeah, well. I knew you hated her, but me being an idiot teenager didn’t exactly know that meant you liked me. I just thought you didn’t like her because she was kind of a bitch. She was plenty nice to me, but she could be...a little scary, at times,” he laughs, surprising himself.

“So...you think Dee would be ok with...this?” you say, gesturing between the two of you.

“I just think there is no way she would let us be alone together if she wasn’t halfway hoping it would work out,” he guesses, “Plus, honestly? We’re adults. We’re allowed to go after what makes us happy.”

A slow smile spreads across your face and you pull Nick in for a kiss. You don’t want to jinx it but he makes you happy too. The way he looks at you like you hung the moon, the way he listens to you and asks questions and the way he kisses you? 

It just has to be real.

Packing up your beach equipment, you head back to drop off everything. Getting back into his SUV, you head around the island and view some of the sights. You go shopping and pick up some new knick knacks to take home. Visiting the lighthouse, you take some photos and make sure to bring Dee and Matt here before you leave the island.

Since most of the island’s restaurants are closed on Sundays, you venture to Ocracoke Variety Store and opt for cooking dinner together. After you have all the ingredients you need for a simple fish fry, you head back to your cottage and you and Nick get your hands dirty.

You have him cutting up potatoes for steak fries while you are preparing the batter for the fish. When dinner is ready, you sit at the dining room table with soft music playing in the background. While Nick wanted to take you out for your first date, he could appreciate the quiet setting with just the two of you enjoying each other’s company.

Finishing your meal, Nick takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. You smile and warmth radiates in your cheeks. You hate to admit it, but you wish you had a little liquid courage right now. But the nerves you feel only cement that this is happening.

He pulls you up from your seat, the hunger in his eyes evident from his blown-wide pupils. Leading you into the bedroom, he stops just short of the end of the bed. Standing behind you as you face the bed, he runs his hands down your bare arms and whispers in your ear.

“I cannot wait to take you apart, Gumdrop. But,” he starts, turning you around to face him, “First, I just want to take my time and worship this beautiful body I know you’re hiding from me.”

If he wasn’t holding you up, you would have melted into the carpet. But he’s there with firm hands and a gentle grip. Helping you out of your dress, he lays it on the chair in the corner. Coming back, he admires the white lace bra and panty set that accentuates your body shape.

His lips come back to yours, tasting your desire and wantonness with every kiss. Wrapping an arm around you, he guides you to lay back on the bed while maintaining the liplock. He kisses down your neck and across your collarbone while his hand unclasps your bra and removes it from your body.

Laying a kiss between your breasts draws a quick inhale from you. You can tell he’s proud of himself when he looks up at you while he licks one pert nipple, the other between his thumb and forefinger. He sucks on it as if he could siphon gold from your tits. Switching to the other, he gives it the same attention. 

The noises that come from him as he plays with your breasts are enough to make you shiver. He whimpers when you moan and throw your head back. He groans when he kisses down your belly, stopping to look up at you before he plants a quick kiss upon your covered mound.

He pulls down your panties at such an agonizing speed. Nick has to squeeze his dick through his pants when a string of your wetness stretches from your pussy to your underwear. Spreading your legs apart, he feasts on the view of your lips opening like a flower before him.

He wanted to go slow, he really did. But once he flattens his tongue and licks up from your entrance to your swollen nub, he is mesmerized by the taste of you. He goes back and forth between sucking on your button and lapping up whatever nectar drips from you. You can feel yourself inching toward the finish line, and he is right there to talk you through it.

“Fuck...you taste like Heaven...that’s right, baby...let go and cum for me like a good girl,” he commands between licks and kisses.

You’re nothing if not a good listener and seconds later, your walls are clamping around his fingers. You’ve never cum like this before and it washes over you like a warm waterfall. He removes his fingers from your wet opening and sucks them clean before moving up the bed to kiss you.

Tasting yourself on his tongue, you are beyond turned on. You tug at the hem of his shirt and he sits up to pull it off. Running your hands over his chest, you pull at the button of his pants.

“Use your words,” he urges, his hands stopping yours from moving further.

“Need to feel you, Nick. Please fuck me,” you beg, all thoughts gone from your head.

“There’s my good girl,” he replies, standing up from the bed to undress fully. Climbing back on the bed, he kneels between your legs. He strokes himself slowly, eight inches of uncut cock staring you in the face. He squeezes the base and you can tell he is just as excited as you are.

You crook a finger at him and once again, he is on top of you. With nothing between you, you’re impossibly close and you only want to get closer. Your hand soon finds his erection and he hisses at the contact, groaning when you stroke him.

He leans on one forearm while his other hand guides his tip between your lips, gathering some of your slick before entering you. You both groan loudly once he is fully settled inside you. 

“You good, baby?” he asks, anxious to start moving his hips.

“God, yes. Fuck me, Nicky,” you plead, feeling so full when you arch your back.

Foregoing words, Nick retracts his hips and thrusts into you. The wet squelch as he fucks you is music to your ears, just like the way he tells you how beautiful you are in between kisses. He uses your breasts as handholds while he pummels your snatch.

The way he looks into your eyes while he plunges inside you excites you so much that you don’t even notice when a tear escapes your eye. He kisses it away, trailing his lips to your neck where he sucks at your pulse point. At this point, you couldn't care less about a hickey. You just want to be his.

Your next orgasm surprises you and you squeeze his cock from the inside, coating him in your cream. 

“Good girl, coming all over my fucking dick. Feels so fucking good when you tighten around me like that. You are taking me so well, Gumdrop. Yes. You. Are,” he grunts, punctuating the last three words with deep thrusts inside you.

Flipping you over so you are on top, Nick grabs your hips and you start to ride him. You bounce on his cock like it’s the last time you get to fuck. By the mewls coming from him, you are doing it just right.

You feel another climax on its way, slowly building up in your core. Nick swats your hand away when you go to rub your clit. He licks his thumb and massages your neglected pearl until you are unable to hold it in any longer. The dual stimulation is too much and you gush, soaking Nick’s abdomen and your thighs.

“Oh fuck, baby. Such a good fucking girl for me. You must want my cum inside you with the way you’re...riding my dick. Shit, baby, I’m gonna blow. Where do you want it, baby?” he asks, you reply by doubling down on your hip motions.

“Right there, Nicky. Cum inside me, please,” you implore breathlessly.

“Yes, baby. Gonna cum for you, gonna fill you up so good. Ugh, fuck, here it comes,” he whimpers, his hold on your hips so tight to keep you close to him. 

You feel every twitch of his cock, his muscles pulling taut across his arms and chest as he floods your canal. Your name on his lips as he comes down is a badge of honor. Yes, you did that shit.

He pulls you down to kiss him, shallow thrusts keeping him semi-hard before he pulls out. He lays you down next to him, cuddling you close and kissing your forehead. You start to fall asleep but you can feel Nick moving off the bed. Your hand shoots out to grab for him, but he shushes you.

He goes into the bathroom and you hear the faucet running before he comes out with a wet washcloth. Wiping down your sensitive folds, he takes care of you so well. Putting the washcloth back in the bathroom, he comes back and helps you get under the covers and he snuggles in with you.

With your arms and legs entangled in one another, you drift off peacefully.

January 22nd – January 26th 2024 

The days before the wedding are spent enjoying the island with Nick, Dee, and Matt before the other guests arrive. More than once, Dee has cornered both you and Nick, asking embarrassing questions. You both say nothing, feigning ignorance even though Nick has moved into your cottage over the week, abandoning the cottage that he was supposed to share with his parents.

That being said, once his parents do finally make it to the island, he doesn’t even try and act like he isn’t staying with you. The smile on his father’s face says it all, he approves. His mother is far too preoccupied with getting everyone together for the wedding rehearsal to notice anything. 

That is until she catches you and Nick making heart eyes at each other as you stand in for the Bride and Groom in rehearsal. Yes, it was a bit too soon to be playing Wedding Day with a man whose divorce is less than 100 days old.

But when you know, you know.

At dinner, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and you don’t notice Nick following after you. Before you can enter the ladies’ room, a hand on your arm pulls you into the nearby gender-neutral bathroom.

You turn around and are met with hungry eyes before he descends upon you. Turning you around to face the mirror, he puts your hands on the sink and sinks to his knees, his hands roaming under your dress and up your legs until he pulls down your panties. He pulls out his already hard dick and pumps himself a few times before sliding inside you.

“Don’t fucking move, baby. Keep looking at yourself in the mirror, and your hands stay right where they are. You thought you could get away with teasing me in this tight fucking dress,” he breathes, “I want you to watch yourself while I fuck you til you’re dripping for me like the good girl I know you can be.”

When he places his hands on your hips, he begins a steady pace. He watches you in the mirror as your orgasm takes you over without warning. You squeeze him, your walls fluttering and coaxing him to follow you when you cover him in your juices.

But he surprises you when he pulls out and pulls your panties back up. When you turn around to ask why, he only kisses you and whispers in your ear, “I’ll get mine later, don’t you worry.” That only fills you with a little dread, your legs still wobbly as Nick tucks himself away and straightens his outfit. “Can’t have them knowing I just got my dick wet, right baby? See you back out there.” 

He exits the bathroom and leaves you with slick running down your legs and your brain falling out of your ears. And he’s worried about you being the death of him?

You straighten yourself and use the bathroom for its intended purpose. Once back in the banquet hall, you pray to any god who will listen that you don’t look like you just got some dick. You see Nick and Matt in a conversation like he’d been here the whole time. When Dee asks why you look flustered, you lie and say you’re just a bit tired.

Nick overhears you talking to Dee and interjects himself into the conversation, “Why don’t we go get some fresh air? Don’t worry, Sis, I’ll take care of her.” Helping you out of your chair, you both say goodnight to those at dinner.

Nick takes you back to the cottage, pulling you behind him as he walks out onto the balcony. Crashing his lips to yours, his hands scrunch up the fabric of your dress until you feel the night air chill your skin. 

“Hands on the railing, baby,” he says, peeling your soaked panties from you.

Nick’s pushing inside you in the next breath and it’s like he belonged there all along. Holding onto your hips, he begins his onslaught. All you can do is hold yourself up and be happy that no one is walking down this road because fuck they would be able to see you getting absolutely railed without abandon.

Your grip on the railing is faltering as he slams into you and he takes pity on you. He uses the grip on your hips to pull you back so you sit on his lap while he sits in the wicker chair. He moves you up and down on his dick while saying the filthiest things to you.

Once your climax hits, his pace falters and he thrusts up into you. His tip hits your cervix as he pumps you full. He holds you against him and kisses up your neck as you lay back on his chest. For a few moments, all you both can do is breathe and caress each other.

His dick slips free of you and you feel his load dripping from your thoroughly used hole. 

“Come with me back to Virginia,” he whispers, surprising both of you, “Don’t say no just yet. Think about it. We don’t leave for a couple of days. I have not been this happy in a very long while and I think I make you happy too. Just think about it, Gumdrop.”

A million things go through your head at the thought of giving up your life in New Jersey. This was a big step after only a week of playing house. Your brain comes up with so many what-ifs and reasons to not leap. But then one thought sticks, and you smile.

When you know, you know.

January 27th, 2024 – Wedding Day

You were never a big crier, but you shed many tears watching your childhood best friend marry the love of her life. It fills you with hope that everything does happen for a reason. While listening to their vows, you wonder if you could ever make that type of commitment. At that moment, Nick squeezes your hand and you smile up at him. Like he could read your mind, he seems to always know what to do to give you comfort.

Then again, he has known you most of his life. And when you think about it, it has always been him. A distant memory replays in your head of him simply putting a band-aid on your skinned knee when you were nine and he was twelve. Even then, he was there for you with a smile and a friendly hug.

The wedding reception is an all-out party but you expect nothing less from the Fowlers. The music, the food, and the atmosphere are perfect. Dee enjoys herself and is just happy to be married to Matt. And you are so happy for her, to see her without a care in the world. 

Nick focuses on you the entire night, making sure you are comfortable and that you have everything you need. You sit in his lap, effectively confirming any rumors that may have spread about you two. His hand on your knee is warm and you want to sneak out of here and take him to the nearest closet. But he doesn’t let you move an inch once he has you in his clutches.

The wedding photographer snaps a pic of you squealing when Nick plants a sloppy kiss on your cheek. The guests around you simultaneously swoon and groan, depending on their relationship status. Not that you care, you had your man. That’s all that matters.

After the wedding, you and Nick sneak off to a secluded area of the beach to look up at the stars. Taking off your shoes, you don’t mind the sand between your toes. You spend most of the night on the beach, just enjoying each other’s company under the moon. 

You are lucky enough to see a few shooting stars, and you can’t stop yourself from making a wish or two. Wondering if Nick made a wish, you open your mouth to ask him but close it just as quickly. You know his wish already and only you could make it come true.

Coming back to the cottage is bittersweet. The last night of your vacation is spent lying naked with Nick. No sex, just intimate cuddling. You loved how safe you felt in his arms, and you couldn’t deny yourself this feeling.

January 28th, 2024

You’re nervous all morning and Nick tries his best to keep your mind off leaving the island. But all you want to do is spend all day in bed with him.

Saying goodbye to Dee that day is full of teary-eyed hand-holding, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You hug her mother and father and thank them for inviting you. 

Nick drives you to the ferry, thinking for all the world that this is the last time he will see you. But like you continue to do, you surprise him when he’s helping you with your bags.

“So, I have some things to clear up in Jersey, but I was thinking Valentine’s Day is just a couple of weeks away. You can come to my place and we can spend some time together. I may not be ready to move 7 hours away just yet. But I know that I am not ready to be without you. I want you to know that I want this, whatever this is,” you admit, gesturing between the two of you.

“I can be amenable to that. On one condition,” he offers, taking your hands in his.

“And what is that one condition, Nicky?” you press, wondering what else he could want or if your terms weren’t enough.

“When we are with each other again, I get to call you my girl. That’s it. Be mine, and all that?” he laughs, watching as the frown lines on your forehead disappear and a smile grows on your face.

“You had me for a second, Nicky. But, why wait? I’m all yours already. Plus, I’ve already planted my flag in your back pocket,” you tease, snaking your hand around to goose him.

“So that would make me your man, then? And you’re my girl. Makes me wanna ask what made you decide to try this with me?” he hesitates, half wanting an answer and the other half just happy that you said yes.

“Hey, like I always say,” you start, wrapping your arms around his neck, “When you know, you know.”

END…?

A/N: All of the places in this story are real, this is not an advertisement for Ocracoke Island, NC btw. I just loved vacationing here so much, that I wanted to use it in a story lol.

**Tag List** (since I never wrote for Nick, I didn't know who else to tag)

@gummydummy19 @blackwood4stucky

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁

My BINGO Card:

[ironmanxpeter24377]

I thought a depressing thought.

Because of Sebastion Stan's cat allergy, does that mean that we can't have Alpine in upcoming MCU movies? I know CGI exists, but I want a real white cat. Our Bucky Barnes needs his emotional support animal like in the comics.

[the-winter-spider]

Invisible | Part 23

Bucky x reader AU

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Tiny smidge of brief angst, but flufffff

A/N: Only a few more chapters to go..... 😭🫶🏻

The warm scent of roasted vegetables and garlic filled Sam’s apartment as he moved around the kitchen, Wanda and Natasha chatting at the table. A few candles flickered on the counter, their soft light casting a cozy glow. The night had started lighthearted, with jokes and reminiscing about old times, but there was an underlying tension—Sam had been quieter than usual.

As the three of them sat down to eat, Sam finally cleared his throat, breaking the casual flow of conversation. “So, there’s something I need to tell you both.”

Wanda and Natasha exchanged curious glances, but Natasha was the first to speak. “What’s up?”

Sam sighed, running a hand over his face. “I’ve been offered a big promotion at the VA. It’s… it’s a lot more responsibility, a lot more pay, and honestly, it’s kind of my dream job.”

“That’s amazing!” Wanda said, clapping her hands together. “Congratulations, Sammy! You deserve it.”

Natasha smiled, but her brow furrowed slightly. “That is amazing! Buuuuut, why do you look like someone just told you your dog died?”

Sam let out a nervous laugh, fiddling with the edge of his napkin. “Because there’s a catch. The job’s in Washington... I’ll be moving in a week and a half.”

The table fell silent. Wanda’s excitement dimmed slightly, her smile softening. “Oh, Sam… that’s… wow.”

Natasha leaned back in her chair, her lips pressing into a thin line. “That’s a big change.”

“It is,” Sam admitted. “But it’s the right move for me. And don’t get me wrong, I’m excited, but leaving all of you behind? That’s the hard part.”

Wanda reached across the table, placing a hand over his. “We’re happy for you, Sam. Really. We’ll miss you, but this is huge.”

Natasha nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we’ll miss you like crazy, but you’ve got to do what’s best for you, and we'll always be here you know that"

Sam smiled, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Thanks, guys that really means a lot.”

Sam took a sip of his beer, his eyes darting between Wanda and Natasha as if he was working up the nerve to say something else.

“Who else knows?” Wanda asked cutting him off, taking a sip of her beer.

“Well, now that you both know, I should probably let you in on a little secret,” Sam said, his tone teasing but hesitant. “You two are actually the last ones to find out, don't hate me"

Natasha raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “The last ones?” she asked, her voice tinged with mock offense. “Wow, Sam. Save the best for last?”

Sam chuckled. “Exactly. Had to save the best for last, thats right!.... I told Bucky first—obviously…then Y/N, then Steve.”

Wanda leaned forward, smirking. “So, basically, you told everyone else first.”

“Listen,” Sam said, holding his hands up defensively. “I wanted to tell everyone together, but, uh, let’s just say there’s been a lot going on lately.” His gaze flicked to Natasha for a split second before he looked away.

Natasha narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sam hesitated, taking another sip of his beer. “Well, I, uh… I heard about what Steve said to her after the whole thing between you two.”

Natasha froze, her expression hardening. “What do you mean? What did Steve say?”

Sam’s lips parted, then closed as he struggled to find the right words. Wanda’s head whipped toward him. “You’re not just gonna leave us hanging, are you?”

Sam sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Look, it’s not really my place to say what exactly happened. But… yeah, I heard about it all"

Natasha’s jaw tightened, her fingers curling around the edge of the table. “We haven’t talked all week. After I told her we, I needed space, we’ve been taking that seriously this time.”

Wanda nodded slowly, her voice soft. “She hasn’t mentioned it to me either. We’ve just been talking about the little trip Bucky planned for them.”

"What trip?" Natasha questioned "I didn't know about a trip"

Wanda sighed "They're at that Cabin you all went to for summer when you were kids, and too be fair you asked for space from her not the other way around, probably why she didn't tell you...."

Natasja groaned rubbing her hands over her eyes. Sam’s gaze softened, his usual teasing edge replaced with concern. “Nat, I think she's been through a lot lately. She didn’t tell me much, but I know she ran into Steve after she left you, and well he said some pretty outta pocket things to her.”

Natasha blinked, her mouth opening and closing as if trying to process his words. “What… what things?”

Sam shook his head. “It’s not my story to tell.... But from what I’ve pieced together, She’s been carrying a lot on her shoulders—between the things with you, what Steve said both times, and just… everything.”

Natasha’s expression was unreadable, her eyes distant. After a long pause, she murmured, “I should’ve handled things better. I let my feelings get in the way, and now…”

Sam reached across the table, resting his hand on hers. “Nat, it’s not too late. You and her have been through worse and come out stronger. Just… don’t let this fester for too long”

Natasha’s lips pressed into a thin line, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Wanda gave her a reassuring smile. “Start by talking to her. You know she’s always willing to hear you out, you’re besties for a reason”

Sam nodded, his tone firm but kind. “Exactly. You’ve both been through too much together to let something like this tear you apart.”

Natasha exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. “I’ll try. I just… I didn’t realize how much I let this all spiral. Ugh, thanks guys.”

He gave her a small grin. “Hey, what are friends for? Besides, I can’t move away knowing my kids aren’t playing nice.”

Wanda burst into laughter, smacking his arm playfully. “Your kids?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, shrugging with mock seriousness. “I need all my children to get along before I leave. I can’t abandon this dysfunctional little family otherwise.”

Natasha let out a reluctant chuckle, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “Okay, Dad. We’ll figure it out.”

Sam raised his beer. “That’s all I ask. Now, who’s ready for dessert? I made brownies, and I’m not letting you two leave without trying them.”

As the brownies were passed around the table, the mood lightened, but Sam couldn’t shake the subtle tension radiating from Natasha. He glanced at Wanda, who gave him an encouraging nod, as if silently urging him to address the elephant in the room, the one between him and Wanda, the one Natasha didn't even know about. Wanda only knew because she got here 30 minutes before Natasha and Sam thought who better to ask if he should tell her what he knew than someone who lived with Natasha 24/7 and knew her like the back of her hand.

Sam took a deep breath, setting down his beer. “Hey, Nat,” he started casually, but there was a seriousness to his tone that made her look up. “There’s, uh… something else I think you should know.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, already bracing herself. “What now, Sam? You moving to the moon next?”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Nah, this one’s not about me. It’s about Steve.”

Her posture stiffened at the mention of his name, but she tried to play it off. “What about him?”

Sam leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “When I talked to Steve recently, he mentioned something… about you.”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed, her lips tightening. “What exactly did he say?”

Wanda’s gaze darted between them, her brow furrowing with concern. “Sam, don’t dance around it.”

He sighed, running a hand over his face. “Look, she told Steve that you’re in love with him.”

Natasha froze, her eyes widening for a split second before narrowing into a sharp glare. “She what?”

Sam held up his hands defensively. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. She didn’t mean anything by it. It just… came out.”

Natasha pushed back from the table, standing abruptly. “Why the hell would she say that? That wasn’t hers to tell.”

Wanda reached out, trying to calm her. “Nat, wait—”

“No, Wanda,” Natasha snapped, pacing the length of the kitchen. “I didn’t want him to know! Not like that. Not—God, why would she do that?”

Sam stood, keeping his voice calm. “Because she thought he deserved to know, Nat. She wasn’t trying to hurt you. She cares about you, and she thought—”

“Thought what?” Natasha interrupted, spinning on her heel to face him. “That I needed her to play matchmaker? That I couldn’t handle my own feelings?”

“Natasha,” Wanda said gently, standing as well. “She didn’t mean to overstep. You know she’s just been trying to keep everyone together.”

Natasha scoffed, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “Well, she’s doing a great job of it, isn’t she?”

Sam sighed, stepping closer. “Nat, come on. You know her. She’s not trying to make things worse. She’s just… juggling a lot right now. And so are you.”

Natasha shook her head, her frustration palpable. “I don’t even know what to do with this. Steve hasn’t said a damn thing to me about it. Does he know how humiliating that is?”

Sam hesitated, then spoke carefully. “Maybe he’s trying to figure it out... You’ve had feelings for him for years, and he’s been untangling his own mess with her. It’s a lot for everyone.”

Natasha’s jaw tightened, her emotions warring on her face. After a long moment, she sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I just… I didn’t want him to know like this. It feels so… exposed.”

The tension in the kitchen hung heavy as Natasha paced, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Wanda, seated at the small dining table with her glass of wine, raised her hands to diffuse the brewing storm. “Okay, but to be fair, Nat… you meddled between Bucky and Y/N for years. You practically shoved them together.”

Natasha stopped mid-step, her head snapping toward Wanda. “That’s different.”

Sam, leaning casually against the counter with a brownie in one hand and a beer in the other, raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? How exactly is it different?”

Natasha’s jaw tightened, her voice clipped. “Because they were obviously in love with each other. Anyone with eyes could see that. They just needed a push—a little guidance.”

Wanda wasn’t buying it, her expression skeptical. “And what exactly do you think you and Steve are?”

Natasha rolled her eyes, exasperated. “That’s not the same, Wanda. Steve doesn’t…” Her words faltered, the usually sharp edge of her tone softening just slightly. “He doesn’t feel that way about me.”

Wanda sat up straighter, her voice gentler but still firm. “You don’t know that. You’re assuming, just like Y/N assumed with Bucky for years. Maybe it’s not the same, Nat, but… if you’re not even willing to try, how will you ever know?”

Natasha scoffed, clearly uncomfortable, her fingers tapping nervously against the counter. “It’s not about trying, okay? Steve’s not… he’s still hung up on her. Everyone and there pet knows that. I’m not going to be someone’s second choice.”

Sam, who had been quiet through most of the exchange, let out a low whistle. “Yikes, this got real heavy, real fast.”

Natasha shot him a look, but Sam raised his brownie defensively. “Hey, I’m just saying. All this angst? It’s like being back in college.”

Wanda couldn’t help but laugh softly, the tension breaking slightly. Natasha’s lips twitched, but her frustration still simmered beneath the surface.

Wanda placed a comforting hand on Natasha’s arm. “You have every right to feel the way you do. But maybe this is a chance to finally have that conversation with him. No more guessing, no more waiting.”

Natasha’s lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes glistening slightly. “Yeah, because those conversations always go so well,” she muttered bitterly.

Sam reached out, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “Nat, you’re one of the strongest people I know. If anyone can handle this, it’s you.”

She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Thanks, Dad.”

Wanda smiled softly, her voice teasing. “Hey, he’s just trying to get all his kids on good terms before he leaves.”

That finally earned a small, reluctant smile from Natasha. She looked at Sam, her anger softening. “I’ll figure it out. But if this goes sideways, you’re explaining to Steve why I threw his ass out a window.”

Sam grinned. “Deal.”

Before anyone could say more, the sound of a key turning in the lock echoed through the apartment. The door opened, and Steve walked in, looking tired but still managing to offer a small smile. “Hey.”

Sam perked up immediately, pushing off the counter. “Perfect timing Stevie. Brownie or beer?” He held up both as an offering.

Steve chuckled lightly, hanging his jacket by the door. “Why not both?” he replied, running a hand through his hair before stepping into the kitchen. “What’s going on in here?”

The three of them exchanged a quick glance before Wanda, ever the smooth one, piped up. “Oh, you know. Just solving the world’s problems over alcohol and baked goods.”

Steve’s brow furrowed slightly as he looked at Natasha, who quickly busied herself with clearing a nonexistent mess on the counter. “You okay?” he asked her directly, his tone quiet and concerned.

Natasha didn’t meet his eyes, her voice brisk. “Fine. Just tired.”

Steve didn’t push, nodding slowly before reaching for the beer Sam had handed him. “Well, I’m gonna chug this beer and devour some brownies, long day.”

As he moved toward the living room, Wanda watched him go, then turned to Natasha. “You’re gonna have to talk to him eventually, you know.”

Natasha shot Wanda a warning look, but her shoulders sagged slightly as she leaned against the counter. “I know,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Sam, finishing his brownie, clapped his hands together. “Alright, that’s my cue. I’ll let you ladies work out all the feelings. Steve and I are gonna dive into this six-pack.” He winked and walked toward the living room, leaving Natasha and Wanda in a lingering silence.

Natasha finally sat down across from Wanda, swirling her glass of wine but not drinking. “I don’t know if I can, Wanda. Talk to him, I mean.”

Wanda tilted her head, her voice soft. “Why not?”

Natasha let out a bitter laugh. “Because I’ve been standing on the sidelines for years. Watching him pine for her, knowing I’d never measure up. How do you even start a conversation after that?”

Wanda reached across the table, her fingers brushing Natasha’s. “You start by being honest. No more sidelines, Nat. You deserve to be happy too.”

Natasha’s eyes shone with unshed tears, but she quickly blinked them away. “Easier said than done.”

Wanda smiled gently. “Yeah, but the best things usually are.”

As they finished dessert, the conversation shifted back to lighter topics. Sam stood to start clearing plates, and Natasha leaned back in her chair, glancing over at Steve. “Hey, you mind stepping out to the balcony with me for a second?”

Steve raised an eyebrow but nodded, grabbing his beer before following her outside.

The cool night air was a welcome contrast to the warmth inside. The city lights twinkled in the distance, casting a soft glow over the balcony. Natasha leaned against the railing, her arms crossed as she stared out at the skyline.

Steve joined her, standing a few feet away. “What’s on your mind?”

Natasha hesitated, her fingers gripping the railing tightly. Finally, she sighed and turned to face him. “Sam told me you know.”

Steve’s brow furrowed. “About what?”

She rolled her eyes. “About me, how I feel about you.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his expression softening. “So it’s true.”

“Yeah,” Natasha said, her voice quieter now. “It’s true.”

Steve stepped closer, resting his beer on the railing. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it didn’t matter,” Natasha said, her tone a mix of frustration and resignation. “You were always looking at her. Always chasing after her. And I was… I don’t know. Just there.”

Steve’s jaw tightened, his gaze falling to the floor. “That’s not fair, Nat.”

“No,” she snapped, “what’s not fair is sitting on the sidelines, watching the person you love pine after someone else. Watching them hurt over and over, knowing there’s nothing you can do because they don’t see you that way.”

Steve’s eyes met hers, guilt flashing across his face. “I didn’t know.”

“Of course, you didn’t,” Natasha said bitterly. “Because you were too busy looking through me.”

Silence hung heavy between them, the weight of her words settling deep in his chest. He opened his mouth to speak, but Natasha held up a hand, stopping him.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel bad,” she said, her voice softer now. “I just… I needed to say it. For me.”

Steve nodded slowly, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Nat. For not seeing you. For making you feel like you didn’t matter.”

She offered a small, bittersweet smile. “I know you didn’t mean to. But it doesn’t change how it felt.”

Steve reached out hesitantly, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You matter to me. You always have.”

Natasha shook her head, stepping back. “I can’t do this, Steve. Not right now. You need to figure out what you want—who you are—before you even think about coming back to me.”

Her words hung in the air, final and unwavering. Steve nodded, his heart heavy with regret. “I understand.”

“Good,” Natasha said, her voice steady. “Because I’m not going to wait around forever.”

With that, she turned and walked back inside, leaving Steve alone on the balcony, the weight of her words settling deep in his chest. He stared out at the city, his mind racing with everything he’d lost and everything he might never have.

The cabin glowed warmly under the soft flicker of candlelight and the crackling fire. The bottle of wine between you and Bucky was nearly empty, the two of you leaning comfortably against the couch on the plush rug. You took a sip from your glass, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment, when Bucky suddenly set his glass down and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.

Bucky pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Thank you," he whispered.

"For what?" you asked

"For loving me, for letting me love you."

You smiled, nuzzling closer to him. "There's nothing and no one i'd rather have than you, Buck."

“I need to ask you something,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with something you couldn’t quite place.

You tilted your head, smiling softly at him. “Okay. What’s on your mind?”

He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “It’s about what you told me… about Steve. What he said to you. That you shouldn’t be with me, that you should be with him.”

You exhaled slowly, setting your own glass down. “Bucky…”

“It’s been bugging me,” he admitted, his eyes meeting yours, vulnerable and searching. “I mean, do you—do you think he really meant that? Or was he just… hurting?”

You reached out and took his hand in yours, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles. “Bucky, I think Steve was hurting. A lot. But there’s no way he really meant it. And even if he did… it wouldn’t matter. You’ve been my person since we were kids.”

His lips twitched into a small smile. “Really?”

You nodded, your voice softening. “Do you remember the first time you tried to push me on the swing? You said, ‘Sit here. I got you.’ Then you fell on your ass and scraped your knee.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I wasn’t exactly smooth, was I?”

“No,” you teased, leaning closer. “But you’ve always been there for me, Buck. Always. I’ve never had a single doubt about that.”

Bucky’s shoulders relaxed, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “Thank you. I just… I needed to hear it. With everything that’s been happening—with Steve, and now with Natasha.”

You hesitated for a moment before nodding. “What do you think is going to happen with them?”

Bucky sighed, leaning back against the couch and pulling you closer so you were tucked under his arm. “I don’t know. Natasha’s tough as nails, but Steve? He’s in his head a lot. They both deserve to be happy, though. Hopefully, they figure it out… together.”

“I hope so too,” you murmured, resting your head on his shoulder. “They both deserve a happy ending.”

The conversation lulled for a moment, the weight of the topic settling between you. Then you shifted, sitting up and looking at him. “Speaking of happy endings… Sam told me.”

Bucky blinked. “Told you what?”

“About his promotion, the big move.” You studied his face, waiting for his reaction.

Bucky let out a sigh, his thumb brushing against your hand. “I wanted to tell you, but he asked me not to. I’m sorry—”

“Absolutely not,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “You don’t get to apologize for that. Sam trusted you with something big. I could never be mad at you for keeping that promise.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly. “It’s gonna be weird, though. Him being halfway across the country.”

“Yeah,” you admitted, your voice quieter. “It’s going to be weird for all of us.”

Bucky shifted, his hand gently cupping your cheek and turning you to face him. “We’ll figure it out. Just like we always do.”

You smiled faintly, leaning into his touch. “You and me, right?”

“Always,” he said softly.

You let the moment linger before a thought struck you. “So… what’s our next step?”

Bucky frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” you said, gesturing vaguely, “we’re together, but we’re still living as roommates. Two separate bedrooms, two lives in one space. What do we want to do about that?”

Bucky tilted his head, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “What do you want, doll?”

You hesitated, your cheeks warming under the soft glow of the bedside lamp. “I’d love to get a house someday,” you murmured, your voice carrying a mix of hope and uncertainty. “Something with a backyard. Maybe even some space for… you know.”

Bucky’s lips quirked into a teasing smile, his blue eyes sparkling. “Kids?” he asked, his tone light but his gaze searching yours.

“Maybe,” you said softly, feeling your cheeks grow warmer. “What about you? Do you… want that?”

He didn’t answer right away, but the way his expression softened made your heart skip a beat. Slowly, he leaned forward, resting his forehead gently against yours. The weight of his next words felt like a vow. “A house, a backyard, a family. With you?” His voice dropped to a whisper, thick with emotion. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Your chest tightened, the sheer sincerity in his tone leaving you breathless. But then, his lips twitched into a grin as he added, “But… in New York?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, your fingers brushing against his scruffy jaw. “Maybe… Boston?” you offered, the word feeling both foreign and perfect on your tongue.

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his grin widening into something radiant. “I don’t care where we are, as long as I’m with you,” he said earnestly. Then, his tone shifted, a playful but serious edge creeping in. “But you know, we don’t have to wait.”

Your brows furrowed slightly, tilting your head in question. “What do you mean?”

Bucky’s hands slid to your waist, his thumbs rubbing slow circles against your sides as he leaned closer, his voice low and certain. “I mean, I don’t want to wait to start my life with you—our life. I think we’ve waited long enough. If we both want this, why not now? Time’s never on anyone’s side, and I don’t want to waste another second without having all of this with you.”

Your breath hitched at the raw truth in his words, your heart thudding wildly in your chest. “You really mean that?” you asked, your voice a shaky whisper.

He smiled, his lips brushing softly against yours before he pulled back just enough to answer. “I do. I just want to live my life with you already. So…” His eyes searched yours, his voice dropping to something intimate and vulnerable. “Boston?”

You felt the word settle deep inside you, grounding and exhilarating all at once. “Boston,” you whispered back, nodding as your lips curved into a smile.

Bucky’s grin returned, wide and boyish, and before you could say another word, he cupped your face and kissed you, long and sweet, as if sealing a promise. When he pulled back, his eyes shone with happiness. “You have no idea how good it feels to hear you say that.”

You laughed softly, running your fingers through his hair. “I think I have some idea.”

He pressed another kiss to your lips, this one lingering and slow. “Boston,” he murmured again, as if savoring the sound of it. “It’s going to be amazing, doll. Us, a house, a backyard…” His grin turned mischievous. “Maybe even a dog before the kids, huh?”

You giggled, your heart feeling impossibly full. “One step at a time, Barnes.”

[buckybarnesandmarvel]

𝐀𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐚 𝐁𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬

pairings: sebastian stan x reader

warnings: none i think

summary: you wake seb up to see the northern lights

a/n: this is in honour of the northern lights in the uk last night! sadly i missed it but i hope i'll see it tonight! this fic was originally meant to be for the jupiter sighting last year but i never got around to finishing it and it got too late, so i tweaked it a bit for this

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"Seb. Psst. Sebby. Baby. Seb. Seb. Seb." You whispered, gradually growing louder as you tried to wake the sleeping man next to you.

Sebastian groaned next to you, bringing a hand up to rub his face, squinting his eyes, adjusting them to the darkness in confusion.

"Baby. What? Are you okay? What time is it?"

“Like... 1am, but c’mon, c’mon, c’mon!” You grabbed his shoulder and shook him playfully, gently.

“And why, angel, may I ask, do you want me to get out of bed at 1am?”

You raise your brows, giving him a look, to which he looks confused, before his face lit up in an instant.

“Wait. That’s now?”

“Yes!”

Without another moment of hesitation, Sebastian threw the covers off, and threw on a t-shirt. You laughed at how eager he was, but you also relished his happiness, taking in joy from the happy, childlike smile on his face.

The two of you heard about this event earlier and immediately set an alarm for later that night, what with the both of you being space nerds. You both loved dates where you would just camp out and watch the stars for hours at a time, cuddling close, just enjoying the night sky together..

You guys quickly went to the balcony. You had done it up a few months ago after getting lucky with a big space. There was a small hammock chair swing on one end, a small table and couple of normal chairs at the other, free space in the middle.

As mid-May approached, the weather was warm, only a light breeze bristling past. Luckily, the sky was clear so you had a good view of the stars above.

The sky was illuminated in stroked of pink, purples and flickering whites, a bit of yellow, blue and green peeking through the magenta curtains of the lights. You both stood there in awe, never experiencing something of this great beauty before. You were incredibly excited as this had been on your bucket list for years.

Sebastian stood next to you, rocking back and forth on his feet. His hands were on your hips as he took in the view of the ethereal lights around him. The cars below were less frequent, only a few passing by. The neighbours’ lights were off, except for the odd one or two. The darkness on the streets gave an even clearer view of the sky, and for that, you were grateful.

"Did you bring your phone? You whisper to him. You smile as he wordlessly hands you it from his pocket. You swipe away from the picture of the both of you on the lock screen and go to the camera, taking a variety of photos you guys will cherish.

Sebastian moved around and you looked to see what he was doing, where he was going. He sat in the soft, swinging chair, pulling you towards him by the waist. You smiled and lay with him between his legs, your back against his chest. You turned slightly, angling your head to look up to him as he placed a kiss to your forehead.

You felt Sebastian's arms snake under your (his) shirt and wrap around your waist, resting on your stomach, his thumb gently stroking the skin underneath. You smile and wiggled back, getting more comfortable as you both looked up to the sky again.

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sorry this is so short!

tagging: @euphternal @chrisevansdaughter @newgirlintheneighborhood @boredum7865 @newyorkangelbaby @smoothdogsgirl @bubblessunshinehoney @youralphawolf72 @littlebluestone @friskyfisher @hallecarey1 @nana1000night let me know if you want to be added or removed!

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[cattordi]

a/n part 2 to what i wrote the other day!! glad u guys enjoyed the other

summary two weeks later, it’s memorial day and your parents throw a party. they invite all your friends and family but unexpected guest shows up.

pairings brothersbestfriend!mechanic!bucky barnes x collegestudent!reader

warnings smut, fluff, breeding, praise, not proofread, face fucking, choking, jealous!reader,foul language, orgasm denial, arguing, sir kink, rough sex, etc. 18+ MINORS DNI

part 1

pretty girl

you never thought you’d be more uncomfortable around your family, mainly your brother, than you were when bucky barnes walked in.

it’s been 2 weeks since the car debacle and you haven’t spoken since. until now, “it’s good to see you y/n.” he says absentmindedly.

you force yourself to not roll your eyes and instead give a small smile, “bucky i never got to thank you for helping my girl out the other night.” your dad says and you almost spit out your lemonade.

“no need to thank me. if y/n calls i come.” he says in the smoothest way possible, you wouldn’t suspect anything happened.

more of your family begin to arrive as the day sets in and you couldn’t be more happier.

well yeah you could be, if the most beautiful man you ever saw wasn’t burning a hole in the back of your head.

you could literally feel his gaze as you talk to your cousins by the man made fire pit.

though you couldn’t lie, you’d thought about bucky. a lot more than you’d let on. the feeling of him inside you made you wet just at the thought.

squeezing your legs together, you finally look at bucky and he’s smiling, but not at you.

at your cousin.

jealousy filled you as you took another sip of your drink and set the glass down a bit louder than you intended. “y/n, you good?” your brother ask when the sound of the glass hitting the table; catches his attention.

“i’m fine.” you say in a way so he doesn’t ask anymore questions. “just fine.”

with that, you get up and walk inside; not before sending a look buckys way that your cousin just barely missed.

you hated that he made you feel things. mentally and physically. “what have i gotten myself into?” you say as you walk into the kitchen in search of ice.

“me.” a stern voice says from behind you and you don’t have to turn around to know who it is. “y/n, are you jealous?”

“over you? no. i’m enthralled.” you begin while filling your cup with ice. a warm body comes up behind you, “lose the attitude.”

“i don’t have an attitude, i’m really en-“ you begin but his hand snakes up your chest and to your throat, “that mouth in you is gonna get you in a world of trouble with me, babydoll.”

pleasurable tears brim your eyes as his lips meet you neck. “i’ve missed you and i know you missed me.”

“in your dreams.” is all you can mutter out before you’re bent over the counter.

“what’d i tell you about that mouth?” he ask, with his grip tightening on your neck. “maybe i should put it to better use?”

nodding your head quickly, he looks around the kitchen before placing his hand under your dress and finding your uncovered pussy, dripping.

“no panties… and you’re already so wet for me.”

“yes sir.” you say and he smiles like an idiot. “oou i like that. so tell me, do you want me to fuck that pretty face of yours?”

rubbing your legs together between his hand you nod before a harsh smack is landed on your ass. “words baby. i want words.”

“yes sir, i want you to fuck my face.”

with that, he releases your throat and pushes you towards the floor. when you’re done undoing his jeans, his dick springs out at you: hard and leaking precum.

“open up darling.” he groans. as you begin opening your mouth, he plunges his length into your mouth. more tears fill your eyes as he begins thrusting into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat everytime.

his dick is so long and wide that only half of it fits in your mouth. “y/n your mouth feels so fucking good. so good.”

his movements get faster and faster. “you’re such a good slut.“ he praises and that makes you even more wet. “i’m getting close darling. don’t move.”

he slows his thrust down before removing him from your mouth. looking up at him, your makeup ruined, you pout. “you were close, why’d you stop?”

“because i’m not coming unless i’m in that tight pussy so get up.” roughly, he pulls you up and bends you over the counter again.

he bends down behind you and you can immediately feel his hot breath on your slit. “don’t move or make a sound. you cum when i tell you too. you wouldn’t want everyone outside to hear you getting fucked like a slut.”

“yes si-“ but before you can get the rest of yours words out, his mouth is on your clit, sucking and licking on you every which way.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck.” you whisper to yourself as his tongue gets faster. your knuckles are beginning to turn white as you grip the counter.

very soft moans fill the kitchen as bucky continues to eat u like a starved man. “i’m so close.” you moan and bucky slows down.

“hold it darlin.” he says while moving his head which makes his stubble run against clit. “you taste so good.”

he continues fucking you with his mouth even when you tell him you have to come. “hold it.” is his only reply.

“buck i’m gon-“ you begin but before you finish your sentence he rips his mouth from you. “holy shit darling if you have to come so bad, i wanna hear you beg for it.”

his mouth is back on you before you can reply and you let out a gasp. “can i please please please come?”

“no.” he hums on your clit. you let out a much louder moan which is rewarded with a slap to your thigh. “didnt i say don’t make a sound?”

“yes sir.” you moan out. “can i come now please sir, please.”

“hmm, come on my mouth sweet girl.”

with that, you come in his mouth with moans that are quickly hushed by his hand. “sweetheart you taste so fucking good. so good.” he says all while lapping up all the wetness rolling down your thighs.

while coming down from your high you can feel buckys hands on your waist, positioning himself inside of you. “i’m only gonna remind you one more time, don’t make a sound and don’t move. if you do so, i’m gonna have to bend you over and spank your perfect little ass.”

before you can respond, he’s pushing into you with all his force. you moan into your hand as he begins fucking you so hard every thrust moves you across the counter.

“you’re so tight darling.” he groans, “but you feel so fucking good.” his hips snap into your ass repeatedly.

“i’m getting so close buck.” you moan as his hand snakes around the front of your body to rub your clit; adding fuel to the fire.

he pulls you into his chest making him hit a different angle with every thrust, “oh fuck right there.”

“sweetheart i feel you squeezin’ me so well.” he moans slowing does his thrust.

“i’m gonna come bucky.”

“come for me sweetheart.” he says and you do.

you throw your head back at the feeling of you milking his cock. your moans get louder and louder by the second, causing him to cover your mouth and land a smack to your ass again.

the feeling of the smack makes you tighten around him again. “oh my goodness, you’re so fucking tight. making me come.” he groans as he fills you with his cum.

the warmth you feel inside is like no other as he continues to fuck through his orgasm and your own.

once you’re both down form your high, he slowly removes himself from you and gives one more slap to your ass.

nervousness takes over your features as you guys pull yourselves together. “what’s wrong sweetheart?” he ask and you shake your head.

his calm facial expression turns stern quickly, “what’s wrong?”

“this can’t happen again. my brother would murder you if he found out and my parents would disown me.” you say.

“sweetheart we’re both adults, so who says we can’t do this.”

“i thought it was common knowledge. but whatever, just know this can’t happen again.” you say and quickly head back outside. “make sure not to wait like 10 minutes before going back outside.”

no matter how much you say it’s not gonna happen again, we all know it will.

[sosa2imagines]

You, me and Vegas! Part 1

Warnings- Fluff, drunk idiots.

The city of Las Vegas, Nevada is known for its vibrant strip of casinos, hotels, and entertainment venues.

The bright lights, glitzy resorts, and non-stop excitement create an atmosphere that draws people from all walks of life. Whether it's the high-stakes gambling, world-class shows, or luxury dining, Vegas promises an experience unlike any other city.

Bucky Barnes, a man in his mid-thirties, sat at the bar, his steel-blue eyes reflecting the dim lighting of the room. He swirled the glass in front of him, taking a long, slow sip.

His thoughts were heavy, as the recent job loss hung over him like a dark cloud. He was struggling to keep up with the secret and the pressure was mounting.

Bucky's parents, George and Winnifred Barnes, were prominent figures in society, known for their wealth and social standing.

They had always had a clear vision for Bucky's life, meticulously planning out every detail, from his education to his future career. The pressure to meet their expectations had been a constant presence in Bucky's life, casting a long shadow over his own desires and ambitions.

Bucky took another sip of his drink, feeling the liquid burn as it went down his throat. He stared into the amber depths of his glass, his mind racing.

Losing his architect job had left him feeling lost and confused. The stability he had grown accustomed to was suddenly gone, leaving him grasping for purchase in the chaos. He didn't know what the future held, and the uncertainty gnawed at him relentlessly.

Peach, a woman in her early thirties, sat at a table across the room, her sparkling eyes full of mischievousness.

She was a writer, a free spirit who reveled in life's unexpected turns. Clutching a colorful cocktail in her hand, she observed Bucky over the rim, intrigued by his brooding demeanor.

Despite her own financial struggles, Peach harbored an unshakeable optimism. She was determined to push her worries aside and revel in the moment. Tonight, she was in the mood to enjoy the scenery and escape the constraints of everyday life. And something about Bucky's brooding presence caught her attention.

As Peach made her way to the bar, she couldn't help but notice Bucky, his furrowed brow and taut frame drawing her attention.

She took a seat beside him, her laughter bubbling over as she smiled warmly. “Hey there, tough guy…” she teased, her eyes glimmering in the dim light.

Bucky looked up as Peach took the seat beside him, surprised by her easy-going smile. He gave her a sidelong glance, his eyes roaming over her infectious grin. “What's so funny?” he asked, his rough tone softened by curiosity and the buzz of alcohol.

Peach shrugged, still smiling. “You…” she replied bluntly. “You look like you've got the weight of the world on your shoulders. Mind if I lift some of that burden?”

Bucky huffed, his expression a mix of bemusement and irritation. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?” he asked, taking a swig of his drink.

“Well, first, I think we need to get you out of this funk. You can't solve anything by brooding in a dark bar...” she chided gently, flagging down the bartender.

Turning to Bucky, she added, “And then we might just make a plan. What's got you so weighed down, anyway? I’m Y/n by the way, but everyone calls me ‘Peach.’”

Bucky's shoulders sagged, the weight of his worries pressing down on him. He stared into his empty glass, his eyes cloudy with frustration. “I’m James, everyone calls me Bucky and I lost my job.” he confessed, the words heavy on his tongue.

Peach's grin faded, her expression softening into sympathy. “I'm sorry,” she said sincerely. “That must be really tough.”

Bucky nodded, rubbing his face with a weary hand. “It's more than tough. It's... crushing. I thought I had it all figured out, a steady job, a plan. And now... I've got nothing.”

Peach reached a slender hand to rest reassuringly on Bucky's shoulder. “It might feel like that right now, but there's always a way out.” Her voice was gentle yet firm.

Bucky looked up, meeting her earnest gaze. There was a glimmer of hope in those blue depths; a hope that he didn't want to extinguish. “You make it sound so simple.”

Peach laughed, her eyes sparkling. “Loosen up, Bucky! A little too serious for a weeknight, don't you think?”

Bucky glanced at the time, the alcohol making the numbers blurry. He sighed, pushing himself off the stool. “It's getting late.” he mumbled.

“Ah, come on! Don't leave yet...” Peach protested, a hint of disappointment in her tone. “The night's just getting started.”

Bucky ran a hand through his hair, the alcohol making it difficult to focus. “I... I really should go.” he said, his voice rough.

Peach chuckled, her words slightly slurring as the alcohol took its toll. “Why are you such a tight ass?” she teased, leaning a little closer to Bucky. “You're so tense, so uptight. You need to loosen up.”

Bucky bristled at the accusation, his cheeks flushing slightly. “I am not a tight ass!” he protested, the denial coming out a bit louder than he intended.

Peach smiled slyly as she leaned in, her breath hot against Bucky's ear. “Prove it...” she whispered, a challenge in her voice.

Bucky swallowed, his heart thudding a little faster. Her proximity was intoxicating. He took a deep breath, determined to prove her wrong.

Bucky, feeling a sudden rush of determination, signaled the bartender. “Two more shots!” he barked, his voice rough with drunken determination.

Turning to face Peach, he set the shot glasses on the bar between them. “I'm not a tight ass!” he said firmly, meeting her gaze.

Peach smirked, amused by his sudden display. “You're on...” she retorted, raising her shot glass in a mock toast.

They clinked glasses and downed the shots in one swift gulp. The liquid burned as it went down, fuel for the budding rivalry between the two. Bucky slammed his glass down onto the bar, his eyes locked on Peach's.

“Another!” he declared, a hint of challenge in his voice.

Peach raised an eyebrow, impressed by his defiance. “You're braver than I thought.” she teased, flagging down the bartender for another round.

The second shot burned just as much as the first, but with it came a wave of liquid courage. Bucky leaned slightly towards Peach, his inhibitions fading with each shot.

“See? I told you. I'm not uptight...” he said, a cocky grin playing at the corner of his lips.

Peach chuckled, enjoying the change in Bucky's demeanor. “One more to settle this.” she proposed, signaling for yet another shot.

They downed the third shot, the alcohol fueling their banter. Bucky felt the alcohol coursing through him, emboldening his words and movements. He leaned a little closer, meeting Peach's challenging gaze.

“Satisfied yet?” he asked, a cocky smirk on his face.

Peach leaned back, her smirk widening. “Almost...” she confessed, the alcohol making her bolder than usual.

“Almost, huh?” Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow. His heart was pounding now, fueled by the alcohol, the challenge, and the unexpected chemistry between them.

And so, fueled by liquid courage, Bucky ordered another round.

As the night wore on and the alcohol fueled their conversation, Bucky and Peach found themselves sharing more than just drinks. They opened up about their dreams, their disappointments, and the sheer absurdities of life.

The buzz of alcohol in their veins loosened their tongues, and they laughed loudly, feeling lighter than they had in weeks. The weight of their worries faded, replaced by the warm, almost giddy sensation of carefree banter.

With the fresh night air hitting their faces, the laughter doubled. They stumbled out of the bar, the neon-lit streets of Las Vegas a dizzying backdrop to their tipsy giddiness.

The cool night air was a stark contrast to the heated banter and alcohol, but it didn't dull their good mood. They leaned on each other for support, their steps unsteady.

As they weaved through the crowds, Peach grabbed Bucky’s hand. “Let’s do something wild!!!!” she declared. “Something that defies all reason.”

Bucky’s heart raced. “Like what?”

Peach pointed to the 24/7 wedding chapel ahead. “Let’s get married.”

Bucky's eyes widened as he followed her pointed finger towards the wedding chapel. The bright neon sign glowed, advertising the one-stop shop for quickie weddings. He stared at Peach, his mind spinning with the implications of her words.

“You can't be seriousss,” he managed to say, the alcohol making his words slur together.

Peach pulled him towards the chapel, her grip on his hand unwavering. “Oh, I'm dead seriousss…” she replied, her eyes sparkling with mischief and a hint of a drunken bravado.

The chapel was small and cozy, but somehow it added to the charm of the moment. The Elvis impersonator, with his sparkly jumpsuit and greasy pompadour, looked on serenely as Bucky and Peach stumbled towards the altar.

They didn't have rings, witnesses, or even proper clothing, but none of that mattered.

The words of the vows were slurred, and they couldn't keep straight faces, but they were serious in their own way. As they pledged their love, or whatever passed for it in their current drunken state.

Bucky and Peach had never felt more alive.

And as they kissed, “I now pronounce you man and wife,” the Elvis impersonator declared, his voice booming with exaggerated gravitas.

Bucky and Peach looked at each other, eyes wide and filled with laughter and incredulity.

They had done it—they had drunkenly gotten married in a Las Vegas chapel with an Elvis impersonator officiating. It was insane, ridiculous, and the most spontaneous thing either of them had ever done.

Together, they stumbled back into the night, as husband and wife, weaving their own story amid the glittering lights of Las Vegas.

Part 2-

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